


My Cubicle Life

by Fabby



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Romance, Romantic Comedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-31
Updated: 2014-08-24
Packaged: 2018-01-06 21:34:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 33
Words: 150,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1111771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fabby/pseuds/Fabby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis Tomlinson’s life hasn’t exactly turned out the way he wanted it to. </p>
<p>He and his foul-mouthed best friend, Niall Horan, used to talk about everything they were going to do with their lives once they were grown.  Their lives would be filled to the brim with excitement and adventures, love and happiness, friends and family but most of all, they’d be filthy rich. </p>
<p>Louis thought that his most life-changing event would be coming out as gay in uni. </p>
<p>But as it turned out, his life would become painfully simple. </p>
<p>Fresh out of uni, he found himself working a meaningless, low paying, life-sucking 9-5 job and going home alone every night to the flat that he shared with his best friend. But when a curly headed, dimple having, freakishly tall boy got locked out of his flat one night and came in like a wrecking ball into Louis’s life… well, it turned out <i>that</i> would be the most life changing thing to happen. </p>
<p>And he hasn’t been the same since. </p>
            </blockquote>





	1. No Butts

I never really considered myself to be claustrophobic.

Up until the point that I got my first _real_ job, at least.

Now I couldn’t help but think the walls of my cubicle were closing in on me.

“They’re getting closer, mate.”

“Nah.”

“I’m telling you, they’re getting closer.”

I leaned back in my chair, extending my arms out as far as I could, the tips of my fingers brushing against the cubicle walls. From the cube next door, I heard Niall chuckle quietly to himself. This was a conversation that I struck up at least once a week, convinced that the cleaning crew who came in after hours was secretly pushing my cubicle tighter together.

“I used to not be able to touch,” I reasoned. The squeak of Niall’s chair rolling back caused me to dip my head further backwards, watching upside down as he appeared around the corner. “Now look at it,” I groaned. “Look at all this touching.”

“That’s what she said.”

“Thanks,” I replied dryly.

“Did you see what Jones was wearing this morning?”

I sighed, popping my chair upright before spinning around to face Niall properly.

“You remember that science teacher from first year? The fuck was his name… with the big glasses—“ he brought his hands up to his face, framing his eyes with his fingers. “And the ugly Christmas sweaters all year round?” He dropped his fingers from his eyes, resting his palms flat on his stomach, as if I couldn’t remember where sweaters were worn. “Errm—“

“Mr. Cho?”

“Yes! Mr. Fucking Cho,” he clapped his hands once.

I nodded.

“The sweater that Jones is wearing, I’m telling ya, Mr. Fucking Cho would turn his nose up at it.”

“Mmm,” I hummed, “Must be bad.”

Niall’s expression fell flat, letting his arms fall lifeless at his sides, “The fuck is wrong with you, mate?” While his words, taken out of context, may have sounded harsh, to me it was just Niall. His every day struggle was to try and stop himself from letting cuss words fly out of his mouth when facing clients or answering phones—I couldn’t tell you the amount of times he had banged his fists dramatically on the desk, yelling out a quick “fuck!” after realizing that he had cursed in an email. It was just part of his vocabulary. His foul language was part of his Irish Charm, according to him at least.

“I already told you,” I groaned, “My cube is getting smaller. Soon enough, I’ll be all squished together,” I pulled my shoulders in dramatically, “Not even able to stretch properly throughout the day. I’ll end up _walking_ like Mr. Cho.”

“His walk!” Niall let out a loud cackle, “I totally forgot about his walk.” I let a small smile slip onto my face. “You think he walked like that because of the weight of his sweaters?”

“It must be hard to walk with all that ugly on you.”

“Exactly!” He cried, cackling loudly once more.

“How did my life end up like this?” I sighed, letting my head fall back onto my chair, staring up at the fluorescent lights above. “We were gonna _be_ somebody, remember? We were gonna matter. Now look at us,” I shut my eyes, pinching the bridge of my nose between my thumb and middle finger. “Half past eight on a Tuesday morning, and the most interesting thing to talk about is Jones’ choice of attire.”

“It’s really something to talk about though.”

“Whatever,” I snapped my eyes open, sitting up straight and turning back towards my desk.

“You just need to relax,” Niall laughed though nothing was funny, clapping his hands down onto my shoulders. “Let’s go to the pub tonight.”

“Can’t. Got an early meeting.”

“Fuck that!” Niall said, louder than necessary, causing me to _shh_ him. “You just said yourself that you’re a boring, old prick—“

“Did not.”

“—Who never gets laid. Hasn’t been to the gym in _god knows_ how long—“

“I said none of those things!”

“—Who can’t even be bothered to put on trousers or shower on the weekend—”

“It’s the weekend!” I cried in my defense, my head fell dramatically into my hands as Niall continued, pinching my shoulders as he spoke.

“I’ll tell ya what you need in your life there, Lou. You need to go out and get shit-faced hammered on a fucking _Tuesday_ and show up a few minutes late for your meeting in the morning. You need ta’ find yourself a nice, fit bloke at the bar, tell him all the raunchy things you’d like to—“

“Niall!” I hissed.

“—do to him, and then _do_ those things in the pub bathroom.”

“In the bathroom?” I asked dryly. 

“Right there in the bathroom.”

“Mmm.”

“On the floor.”

“Mhmm.”

“Right next to the urinal. Straight exhibitionism shit.”

“Really?”

“Mhmm. Kneeling in other men’s wee, or whatever it is that you people do.”

“Right. My _people_ ,” I threw up some air quotes, “Love kneeling in wee.”

“ _Then_ you can go home and pass out on the couch in front of the telly. Smelling of… man. Other man,” he gripped my shoulders hard and ducked his head down to the side of mine. “ _Fit_ man,” he whispered.

“Jesus Christ,” I muttered.

“Oh! And wee, of course. _That’s_ what you need ta’ do.”

“Thanks,” I groaned, “Really. Brilliant advice.” He flashed me a toothy grin before standing back up straight. I hung my head, squeezing my eyes shut tightly, my arms folded across my desk.

“That’s what I’m here for, doll,” and even though I wasn’t looking at him, I could hear the grin that was still spread across his face. He clapped my shoulders one more time before heading back to his cube, making _as much noise as physically possible_ while sitting down and scooting back up to his desk. When Barnes piped up from the next cube over, telling Niall to shut up, he was quick to respond with “Eat me.”

“Fucking hell,” I whispered, leaning back in my chair once again and staring at the screen ahead of me. While I could have lived without the rant Niall had just finished, I still allowed his (foul) words to set in. Maybe he was right. I tried to recall the last time I had gone down to the pub on a weekday, or even a weekend for that matter, and when I couldn’t remember off the top of my head I decided that was a sign. “Fine.”

“Fine?” Niall echoed.

“Fine.”

“Sick.”

By the time 5 o’clock had rolled around, I was more than ready to get out of here. Niall, always the first to shut his computer down and gather his things, was already tapping his foot impatiently outside of my cube. I stood, cracking my back out a few times, before grabbing my jacket and shrugging it on my shoulders.

“Come on, Lou! Jesus,” Niall groaned. I stared blankly at him as I zipped up my briefcase and turned both computer monitors off. “We got pints to drink and blokes to meet! Well, you do. I don’t have any interesting in finding a bloke.”

“No way,” I muttered sarcastically, “And all this time I thought you were gay.”

“I know you want me baby-cakes,” he sighed, “But unfortunately I’m just… not that into you.”

“Lies. You know you’d switch teams in a second for an arse like this,” I shrugged simply, making a show of bending over to pick up the fallen sticky note from the floor.

“Come off it,” he groaned loudly.

As we made our way outside and towards the carpark, I couldn’t help but regret my earlier decision. “I think I’ll just go home instead,” I paused with the driver door half open, leaning against the frame as I stared at Niall from across the car.

“No _fucking_ way,” he replied. “You’re going, Tomlinson, whether I have to drag you there or not.”

“But it’s… Tuesday.”

“Jesus, Mary, Fuck!” Niall slammed the car door, huffing his way around the car until he was standing in front of me. “Do ya really need me to list all the reasons for you— _again!_ —why you need this? It’s one bloody night, for fucks sake.”

“But—“

“No. No butts.” He pointed angrily at me. “The only butts that are acceptable tonight is if they’re bending over in front of you, calling you Daddy, asking you to—“Before he could bend over and press his rear against me in demonstration, which I knew was next, I cut him off.

“I get it.”

“Then _let’s go._ Christ.”

I let a long sigh leave my lungs as I sat in the driver’s seat, waiting as Niall walked back around the car before plopping down. I started the engine and he instantly went to messing with the radio, trying to find the perfect song to “mentally prepare” for the night ahead. We didn’t speak until we were out on the road, heading in the direction of the flat we shared.

“Where are you going? Finnigan’s is that way,” he pointed a thumb over his shoulder.

“To our flat?”

“Whatever-the-fuck-for?”

“To... change clothes?” I raised a skeptical eyebrow over at him.

“No. _No._ Absolutely no. If you step one lazy-foot into our flat, you will be sprawled out onto the couch in no time, watching helplessly as your sex life goes out the window!”

“Niall!” I exasperated, “I just want to change into more comfortable clothes.”

“Well, too fucking bad, mate. Turn left here, we’ll circle back.”

I groaned loudly but put my blinker on regardless, shifting lanes so that I could turn left at the next block. Even though we bickered like an old married couple, Niall won the majority of our arguments and at this point in time I knew it was pointless to fight him on it. Afterall, I had already (stupidly) agreed to go out earlier.

But, then again, a man shouldn’t be able to make conscious decisions at half eight in the morning.

“Fuck yeah, I love this song,” Niall exclaimed as he turned the volume dial up louder than it should go. “La da de da de, we like to party,” he sang loudly along with the Miley Cyrus song, “dancing with Louis!” I gave him a sideways glare before cracking a smile. Even if I would rather be at home, lying on the couch in my comfortable clothes, I knew Niall brought out the best (or the worst, really.) in me.

Niall and I have known each other since childhood—I lived in the red house on the corner, he in the blue house to the left— and ever since the day that he and his family had moved to Doncaster from Ireland, due to Mr. Horan’s job, the two of us had gotten along famously. Niall has always been outgoing and all-too hyper. He lived to make people laugh and didn’t mind if he made a fool of himself in the process.

When I had first met him, I was a shy, self-conscious boy who didn’t know who he was or what his place was in the world. To be fair, I still didn’t know most of that, but my friendship with Niall over the years had forced me out of my shell and had learned to live a little bit. During uni, which Niall and I had attended together, some of the best moments in my life so far happened. 

I showed up a confused adolescent, my only real friends being Niall, and somewhere along the way I learned who I was and how to accept myself for that. I made a bunch of friends, though only keep in contact with handful of them now, and realized that it was okay to be myself. 

Niall was the first person I came out to.

Long before my family, actually.

It had been a cold night in December, right after winter holidays had started, and we sat in the hallway of my abandoned dorm, eating ice cream straight out of the container. My back to the cinderblock wall, my legs bent in front of me, Niall to my left in the opposite position.

“Can I tell you something?” I had asked, pulling my legs up further to my chest, digging my spoon in for another bite. We had planned to go home earlier that day with everyone else, but we found out ( _after_ we had packed my car up) that the battery was dead and all the shops in town had already closed. Stranded and not knowing what else to do, we had spent the next few hours running wildly through the empty dorms and messing with everyone’s belongings, sure to get a rise out of them when we all returned.

Somehow we had ended up here, in the hallway, with our two respective pints of ice cream and plastic spoons we stole from Norman’s room.

“A’course,” he nodded.

“Sometimes I think—well, no, I know. Sometimes I know that…”

“The fuck you trying to say?” He asked, grinning as he took an oversized bite off his spoon.

“I don’t know,” I had groaned. “I guess it’s more of a… confession, really.”

“You’re the one who set chem lab on fire, didn’t you?”

“What? No.”

“You mischievous little _bastard_!” Niall cackled, “I knew it was you!”

“No! It wasn’t me.”

“You little fuck, how’d you do it?”

“Niall, Christ, that’s not what I’m trying to tell you.”

“Horse shit! You were the _only one_ in class that didn’t scream like a little twat when that beaker exploded! It had to be--”

“I’m gay.”

There was a long pause, his spoon halfway to his mouth, his eyes locked onto mine.

“And…?”

“And what?” I asked, my heart beating so loudly in my ears that I could barely hear him.

“And you’ve gotten the clap or summit?”

“What the fuck, no! I just… I’m… you know, I’m gay.”

“Yeah. I know,” he eyed me skeptically, his words coming out slowly, before realizing he still had a bite of ice cream waiting for him. He took the spoon happily in his mouth, his eyes never leaving mine.

“What do you mean you… know?”

“Mate, I’ve known you were gay since the first time I saw you,” he cackled, ice cream dribbling down the side of his chin. He didn’t bother to wipe it off before he continued, “You were prancing around your backyard in these little red shorts, pretending like you were playing football when, come on, let’s face it. You were having a tea party or some shit.”

I could do nothing but blink at him as he spoke.

“You’re the gayest person I know, Lou.”

“I…”

“Any other confessions for me then?”

“Nnnn…no?”

“You didn’t set the chem lab on fire?”

“No!”

“Alright then,” he shrugged, “let’s go turn Brian’s bed over.”

And that was that.

Now, all these years later, Niall was still the same carefree guy that he was back in uni. He still loved to get in trouble, and drag me along with him, but I knew he always had my best interest in heart. I guess that’s why I agreed to this more than anything, I knew it would make him happy. By the time we got to Finnigan’s he was already so hyper that he didn’t _need_ any alcohol.

Once inside, we sat down at the bar and I laid my jacket down over the back of my stool. I rolled up the sleeves of my white button up shirt and loosened my tie, wishing more than anything that I had stuck to my guns and allowed myself to change before going out.

“Two pints!” Niall called out to the bartender, who knew Niall as the regular he was. “Alright, Tommo, I’m your wingman tonight,” he turned on his stool to survey the crowd. “Anybody you see that _pops_ out at you, you just let me know.”

“I just want to drink a few beers and go back home,” I said, “I’m not picking anybody up tonight.”

“The fuck you aren’t,” he replied casually, “What about that one?” He nodded his head to the corner of the bar. I followed the path of eyes to the short, stubby man playing darts. “Too fat?”

“Too… everything.”

“Right, you like em’ tall,” he laughed loudly. “Okay, okay, okay,” his eyes scanned the room again.

“Two pints,” the bartender said, knocking Niall out of his thoughts.

“Kyle, you beautiful man you,” Niall spoke to the bartender, “Did I ever tell you how much I adore you, you son of a bitch?” He asked, bringing the glass up to his lips and taking a long sip of his beer. I sighed loudly as I reached forward to grab my glass, listening as Niall said to me, “Don’t worry, mate, we’ll find you somebody!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Thanks for reading! All feedback is appreciated =)**


	2. Baby-Cakes

I didn’t like to admit when Niall was right, but I’m glad that he made me come out tonight.

Eight or nine beers in, on his tab (because that’s the only way I agreed to keep drinking.) and the bar was about to be closing up. Much to Niall’s dismay, and my secret disappointment, we hadn’t made much progress in the bloke department. Either my standards were too high, which is ridiculous all on its own considering the last time I got any action, or they were all too straight.

Either way, a few hours after we arrived we ended up walking out of the pub into the chilly London air, leaning against each other for support.

“I think,” Niall readjusted the arm that was around my shoulder, “You should have gone with Goatee man.”

“Oh, for fucks sake,” I groaned, “He was the worst of the lot!”

“No mate, he was the best.”

“Lies.”

“He may not have had the prettiest face,” Niall argued, “But I mean, in order to _do what you do_ , he has to be behind you anyway, am I right?” He laughed loudly while I groaned again.

“Yes. Right. Because that’s the only position _my people_ do it in.”

“Exactly my point,” Niall cackled loudly. “So at the end of the day, it didn’t really matter what he looked like.”

“Right,” I agreed sarcastically.

I fished around in my pocket until my fingers clasped around my keychain. Gripping tightly to Niall’s white shirt (he had promptly removed his dress shirt before we even entered the pub.) I clicked the button twice, unlocking the doors to my car.

“No, _no_ , fuck that,” Niall said. “You’re way more pissed than I am,” he made a move to grab the keys out of my hands. “No way am I getting in that death-trap with you.”

“Am not!” I retorted.

“Are too!”

“I’m fine, look,” I said proudly, shrugging his arm off my shoulder as I attempted to walk a straight line. I like to imagine there was a giant boulder that I tripped over, causing me to _almost_ fall to my death, but in all reality I had tripped over my own foot.

“Fine my ass,” Niall cackled as he swooped in, snatching my keys from my hand before putting a steady hand to my back. “You’re wobbling like the knees of a thirteen year old virgin with her panties down.”

“ _Jesus_ , Niall,” I winced at his words, “Your mouth!”

“Yeah, you’d like it, baby-cakes,” he laughed loudly as he opened the passenger door and pushed me into the seat. “But, like I said earlier, I’m just not that into you. Kind of lacking in the _vagina_ department.”

“Ugh,” I groaned to myself, since he had already shut the door and was jogging around to the driver’s side. I struggled to clasp my seat belt, all too aware of how my tolerance for alcohol had diminished since uni. “Maybe we should take a cab?” I asked, blinking my eyes more than necessary as I watched him buckle his seatbelt and turn the car on without any struggle.

“Nah, mate,” he shrugged. “I’m Irish. Back in Ireland, we drink nine beers at lunch.”

“You haven’t lived in Ireland since you were twelve years old.”

“And?”

“ _Andddd_ ,” I paused, “Twelve year olds don’t drink nine beers at lunch.”

“Maybe not in England,” Niall shifted the car into reverse and began to back out of the space. “Where you posh sons-of-motherfuckers don’t even let twelve year olds sit at the same table as adults,” he paused to shift the car into first. “But back in me home land? The legal drinking age is when you can see over the counter.”

“You’re just as English as me, mate.”

“The fuck I am,” Niall glared over at me.

“Oh, look at me, and me wee li’il feets and me wee li’il hands—“

“Is that supposed to be an Irish accent then?”

“Yes.” I kicked my feet around in the well, crossing my arms over my chest.

“And the fuck was that?”

“An Irish jig.”

“You’re accents are shit and your dancing is terrible, Tommo,” he rolled his eyes. “Just sit back and relax, would you? Leave the accents, dancing _and driving_ to me.”

“Fine.”

I must have dozed off during the twenty minute ride home because the next thing I knew, Niall was poking my cheek with the car key and his face was all-too-close to mine. He smiled brightly once he knew I was awake before making a scene of getting out of the car and slamming the door. I sighed loudly, pinching the bridge of my nose and squeezing my eyes shut, being able to feel a headache coming around already.

“Sorry I couldn’t find you a bloke tonight,” Niall said, draping his arm over my shoulder as we walked towards our building.

“’Sokay,” I shrugged.

“Guess you’ll just have to settle for me, yeah?”

“But with you, babe, there is no settling.” I gave off a cheeky grin as I let my hand slip and I brought my palm down in a harsh smack to his butt-cheek.

“Fucking right!” Niall cackled loudly, jogging off in front of me, making sure to sway his hips back and forth as dramatically as possible. “Look at this, baby-cakes,” he paused at the bottom of the stairs, bending forward and bringing both palms down on his own bum, looking over his shoulder at me before saying. “Like what you see, Daddy?”

I rolled my eyes, finding my balance for a second before chasing off after him up the stairs.

“You little fuck!” I hollered, laughing and out of breath as I chased him up the stairs. “Stupid blonde headed twat!” I grabbed a hold of the railing and spun around the corner, chasing him up the next flight of stairs as he laughed loudly. “If I catch you, Horan, I swear to Christ I’m gonna pound your tight little ass _so hard_ you’ll be screamin til—“ my sentence was cut off short as I ran directly into the back of Niall, causing me to lose my short lived balance and stumble back a few steps.

I followed Niall’s eyesight to the tall guy in the hallway, his eyebrows raised, eyes wide and his mouth hung slightly open in confusion.

“Um,” he let out an awkward chuckle, “Didn’t mean to interrupt?”

“Oh God,” I groaned, mortified with what this stranger had just overheard, bringing my palms up to my face in shame. Niall definitely brings out the worst in me.

“No interruption,” Niall bit his bottom lip to suppress the laughter I knew was coming. “For me at least. As for this eager guy,” I didn’t have to remove my hands from my face to know he was pointing at me, “you may very well just cock-blocked him.”

“ _Niall!_ ” I hissed, ripping my hands away from my face, already able to feel the blush creep up onto my cheeks. “Fucking Christ—don’t listen to him,” I stepped in front of Niall. “He doesn’t know what the hell he’s on about.”

The guy grinned, a dimple appearing on his cheek, his curls poking out from beneath the blue knit beanie that covered his head. “Didn’t mean to cock-block anybody, just locked out of my flat. Don’t let me stand in the way of… your night.”

“He couldn’t handle all this anyway,” Niall gestured down his body before he nudged my shoulder, causing me to once again stumble to the side. “I’m Niall.”

“Harry.”

“This little sex kitten—“

“ _Niall!_ ”

“—is Louis.”

“Oh my god,” I buried my head in my hands again. This had to be the most humiliating moment I’ve had in a long time. Thankfully, Harry laughed it off and as I removed my hands from my face and watched as they briefly shook hands.

“You just move in?” Niall asked.

“Yeah,” Harry paused, “A few days ago actually. All was going well until I somehow managed to… lock myself out,” he nodded his head towards the closed door, a frown forming on face. “I thought I had unlocked the handle, but I must have forgotten.”

“Nah,” Niall waved him off, “They don’t unlock. They _look_ like they do, and you can even turn that little fucking lock… thing, to your hearts content,” he laughed, “But they don’t stay unlocked.”

“Ah, right,” Harry nodded. “Would have been nice if they’d tell you that.”

I needed to get out of here.

I took a few steps back until I was standing in front of the door to our flat, reaching in my pockets for my keys so that I could subtly slip away from this embarrassment, but it was only then that I realized Niall still held my keys tightly in his hand. He was in the middle of telling Harry about how the _“God damn English do everything by the book”_ when I coughed to get his attention.

They both turned to look at me.

“Keys?” I sheepishly asked, avoiding Harry’s eyes, my cheeks still on fire from embarrassment.

“Ah, right,” Niall said, tossing the keychain at me which of course I missed and they landed on the floor. Sighing quietly, realizing that I couldn’t possibly embarrass myself much more, I leaned down to retrieve them. “Nice one,” was Niall’s comment as he laughed loudly at my expense.

“Well, it was nice meeting you,” I said without looking to Harry.

“Did you wanna come inside and call someone ‘bout your flat?” I heard Niall ask Harry. “It’s bloody freezing out here.” I squeezed my eyes shut tightly, silently begging him to say no, but of course he was quick to agree and thank Niall. “You need help with the door there, baby-cakes?” Niall’s voice brought me out of my thoughts as I turned my head to glare at him. I jammed the key into the lock and opened the door to our dirty flat, mortified that our new neighbor was about to see how filthy we lived.

Mortified that I was as drunk as I am.

Mortified that every time we ran into each other in the hallway, I’d be _that guy_ that was threatening to rape his friend the first time we met.

Mortified about my life.

I toed off my shoes, removing the jacket from my torso and draping it over the back of a chair.

“My flat mate will be here soon hopefully,” I heard Harry explain; “She went across town a few hours ago, she has to be wandering back soon.”

“Your flat mate’s a girl?” Niall perked up, “what a sick set up ya’ got there!”

“ _Niall_ ,” I glared, “Can you not?” Another thing about Niall Horan is that he had _no_ censor on himself. If a thought came to his mind, he was most likely going to come right out and say it. He had no shame when it came to prying into other’s social lives.

“Go to bed, sweet-pea,” he rolled his eyes. “Leave the men to talk.”

I narrowed my eyes at him.

I scooted past the two into the kitchen, flipping the light on as I headed towards the sink for a glass of water. I leaned against the counter as I watched the tap fill up a glass, glancing over at the oven for the time.

Fuck.

I have to be up in four hours.

As I brought the cold glass of water to my lips, I let my eyes fall on Harry. He was in the middle of a conversation with Niall about his flat mate, his arms folded across his chest, one ankle crossed over the other. He was clearly in shape by the way his jacket was snug against his arms and every time he smiled, my eyes would be drawn towards the dimple in his cheek. I watched as he pulled the beanie off his head, running his fingers through his curly hair afterwards.

_Go to bed, Louis._

Placing the empty glass in the sink, I turned on my heels heading towards my room.

“Nice, um, meeting you… again,” I muttered awkwardly.

“You too, mate,” Harry grinned.

“See ya in the morning, sweet-cheeks!” I heard Niall call out to my back as I headed down the hallway. _”He hates when I use pet names on him, the lil’ shit,”_ I heard him explain quietly to Harry afterwards. I quickly shut the door to my bedroom, leaning my back up against it and letting a long breath of air leave my lungs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Thanks for reading! All feedback is appreciated =)**


	3. Nectar of the Gods

When my alarm went off this next morning, just a few hours after I had gone to sleep, I was pretty upset with my choices from the previous night. I had a meeting at quarter to seven this morning, where I had to deliver a presentation in front of the whole board, but yet here I was, still lying in bed, half naked and smelling of stale beer. Had I gotten a proper nights sleep, I would have gotten up the first time my alarm went off, at five, but the flat was cold and the warmth from my duvet (and the hangover from the beer.) were good enough reason as any to lay in bed a few extra minutes. 

Flashes from last night popped into my head as I stared up at the ceiling, my room still dark since the sun hadn’t rose yet. I remembered chasing Niall up the stairs, yelling obscenities at him and the awkward conversation with our new neighbor afterwards. I groaned loudly, rolling over onto my side, picturing the look of confusion Harry had on his face when Niall and I came bounding into the hallway. 

You, Louis Tomlinson, sure do know how to make a good first impression.

I pulled my knees to my chest, my hands covering my face, trying to block out the memory. 

Finally, after my alarm had gone off twice more, I sat up in bed and swung my legs over the side. I rubbed my face hard, trying to rid myself of the headache that was ripping through me. I stood and opened my bedroom door, a shiver running down my body as the cold air hit me, wearing only my black boxer briefs as I headed towards the kitchen. 

My barefeet padded against the cold wood floor, the flat pitch dark except for the light coming in from the street lamps. I almost made it to the kitchen without any trouble, which was shocking considering the severity of the hangover I had, but I didn’t quite make it there.

“Shit! Fuck!” I cursed loudly as I tripped over a pair of shoes-- mine or Niall’s, I’ll never know-- my arms flailing out to the side and knocking over a table-lamp in the process. 

“What the--” a strange voice came from the couch as I scrambled to hit the lightswitch. 

My heart raced, from scaring myself half to death and the unfamiliar voice in my living room, and when I finally hit the lights and whipped back around it was when I recognized our neighbor (whom I made a fool out of myself in front of. Twice, now.) half on, half off the couch, with a lamp in his lap.

“What’re you doing here?!” I cried, leaning forward and bracing my hands on my thighs, breathing deeply as my heart rate slowed. “You scared me half to death!” 

“Sorry!” Harry’s groggy voice was quick to respond. “I-I… was locked! Shauna never showed… Niall… couch…I’m sorry!” He apologized again, stuttering with his words and speaking only in half sentences. I stood up straight and looked to the couch, watching as Harry removed the blanket from his jean covered legs and stood. He set lamp gently back in it’s place before snatching his shirt from the end of the couch and quickly slipping it over his head. 

It was then that I realized I was basically naked. 

I quickly folded my arms over my stomach to compensate. 

“I didn’t mean to intrude,” Harry spoke quickly, avoiding my eyes as he looked around for his shoes. “I-- I wouldn’t have stayed at all but my flatmate never showed up! And-- And I just moved here, so I didn’t have any mate’s house to go to, so Niall-- well, he said I could just sleep here on the couch because, _well, shit, boy-oh! We practically family now!”_ I couldn’t help but let a chuckle leave my lungs as his rant turned into an Irish accent. Niall was always so quick to make friends. “But I-- I realize how this looks. So. I’ll just go,” he let a puff of air leave his lungs as he hopped on one foot to pull on his shoes. 

“No, no, it’s okay,” I shook my head, “It’s still really early.” 

“I’ll go,” Harry insisted, shaking his head as well. 

“I’m leaving soon anyway,” I shrugged, another chill running up my body and I shivered, gripping my sides tighter. 

“Sorry I scared you.” 

“It’s okay,” I forced out a laugh. I turned and continued on my way into the kitchen, which was connected to the living room, and I could feel Harry’s eyes on me as I turned my back to him to grab some medicine. Feeling more naked than ever, I popped open the medicine bottle and shook a few pills out into my palm before replacing the bottle in the cabinet. I let my eyes trail over to where he now sat on the couch, his elbows on his knees, but quickly averted them when we made eye contact. 

After filling up the same glass I had used the night before, I quickly swallowed the pills. I flipped the kettle on and went to grab a mug when I realized his eyes were still locked onto me. 

“Did you want a cup?” I hesitantly asked. Even though he was the unexpected guest in our house, I still had my manners. Thanks, Mum. 

“No, I’m okay, thanks.” 

I nodded and set one mug down on the counter. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a pair of Niall’s trackies on the floor near the dining table, and I was quick to snatch them up and pull them up my legs, feeling a little less exposed now. My head was pounding, I still felt drunk and I had a weird taste leftover in my mouth for my sleep, but the words that came out of Harry’s mouth next caught me off guard. 

“I don’t like tea.” 

“You don’t like tea?” 

“Nope.” 

“At all?” 

“Nope.” 

I paused for a second, my mouth hung open slightly, “Really?” 

Finally, he chuckled quietly and shook his head. 

“You’ve never liked it? Or did it _wrong you_ at some point in your life?”

He chuckled again and I suppressed a grin. “Never liked it.” 

“Really?” I exasperated, a puff of air leaving my lungs. 

“Everyone has their quirks, right?” 

“Yeah, but, tea is like…” I squinted my eyes in thought, “The nectar of the _Gods_. No-- No, scratch that. It was _God’s gift_ to mankind! On the seventh day, _he rested._ ” I said, my arms gesturing out in front of me. “Rested!” I repeated for emphasis. Judging by his quirked eyebrow I could tell he confused.

“ _Rested,_ mate. You don’t _rest_ without a cuppa. Clearly, God was kicked back in his recliner, feet propped up on something golden, waiting for the footie game to come on _with a goblet full of Yorkshire Tea._ ” 

Harry threw his head back and laughed loudly, wrapping his arms around his stomach as the laughter ripped through him. I cracked a sideways grin, not able to stop myself from the way he was laughing. 

Still chuckling, he shrugged and said: “Sorry, bro. I’ve just never liked the stuff.” 

“Well, _bro_ ,” I raised a mocking eyebrow, “Clearly you’ve never had _my_ tea.” 

“Can’t say that I have.” 

“It’s decided then,” I nodded to myself, reaching back into the cabinet and grabbing a second mug. “Because until you’ve had _my tea_ , you can’t very well say you _don’t like the stuff._ ” I continued as I snatched the box of Yorkshire Tea from atop the fridge. “And besides, it will bug me the rest of the day, thinking that a proper lad like yourself has gone his whole life thinking he doesn’t like tea!” 

“Well we wouldn’t want that,” he grinned. 

“Right,” I agreed with a nod of my head. 

There were a few moments of awkward silence-- awkward because we really didn’t know each other at all, but at least I wasn’t _as_ naked now-- before he stood and took a few steps towards the kitchen. Leaning his elbows against the bar, he rested his chin on his palms and asked: “So… what do you do that requires you to be up this early?” 

“I’m a Database Process Analyst.” 

“Mmm,” he hummed, “And what the hell is that?” 

“According to the company I work for, Homelle & Dean, I design, develop and troubleshoot database projects for future developments.” I laughed once, “But what I really do is sit in a cubicle all day, staring at Excel spreadsheets with a bunch of nonsense written in them. Mostly complaining about anything and everything to Niall, who also works for the same company,” I added. “But every once in a while, I get talked into presenting new changes that we’re making for the company in front of the entire board.” 

“Oh,” was Harry’s response. 

I sighed loudly and over exaggerated, “Yes. It’s quite depressing, I assure you.” 

“It sounds,” he paused, “Interesting.” 

“You don’t have to be coy about it,” I laughed, “It’s like working in the depths of _hell._ ” Once the tea was finished, I proudly set one of the mugs down on the bar in front of him. I stood back, my own mug held tightly in both hands, with a satisfied smile on my face. “Get a load of that.” 

“Right,” he smiled, picking up the mug and blowing on the tea once before taking a small sip. 

“Aye?” I raised both eyebrows, my grin growing wider. “Delicious, yeah? Just what you’ve been missing your life?” 

He hesitated ever so slightly before nodding.

“Delicious,” he agreed with a smile before setting the mug back down.

I eyed him skeptically for a moment, eyebrow quirked, before letting my expression fall flat. “You don’t like it.” 

“No, no, it’s good,” he nodded a few times. 

“You bloody liar!” 

He grinned, “I really just… don’t like tea, mate.” 

“Well,” I huffed, “You clearly have poor taste in beverages.” 

“Clearly.” 

“And life in general.” 

“Yup.” 

“Born without taste buds.” 

“I knew I was missing something….”

“I’ll take this,” I picked up his mug as I shifted around the bar, heading towards the hallway with both mugs of tea. “And be off to the shower.” 

“You’re gonna drink both?” He laughed from his spot in the kitchen. 

“Fucking right I am,” I hollered without looking back at him. I closed the bathroom door, sitting both mugs down on the counter before looking myself over in the mirror. I couldn’t help the smirk that formed on my face. I loved banter and I hadn’t been able to go back and forth with someone so quickly since the day I met Niall. 

It was nice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Thanks for reading! All feedback is appreciated =)**


	4. King of The World

“How’d your meeting go this morning, buttercup?” Niall asked when he arrived at work a few hours later. He stopped in my cubicle, his jacket folded over his arm and his briefcase hung over his shoulder. 

“Bloody awful,” I sighed, turning my chair around to face him. “Thanks for the heads up that our neighbor was sleeping on the couch, by the way.” 

“You were asleep,” Niall shrugged carelessly. “What’d you want me ta’ do? Wake you up?” 

“That would have been nice.” 

“The fuck it would,” Niall narrowed his eyes. “That would just be another thing you’d be bitchin’ and moanin’ about this morning. Besides, the poor lad didn’t have anywhere to go. And, you know, we’re neighbors and all that.” 

“Well I walked out there half naked this morning and ‘bout knocked him out with a lamp.” 

“You hit him with a lamp?!” 

“No--” 

“Why were you naked?!” Before I could even respond, he continued. “You little… _minx!_ ” He cackled, I narrowed my eyes but didn’t say anything. “What’d ya think, that you could just sashay your fat arse in front of him, in all its naked glory, and that’d outweigh the fact ya’ knocked him over the head with a lamp?” 

“Something like that.” 

“Well, did it work?” 

“Ugh,” I groaned loudly, spinning my chair around to face my desk. 

“He is your type, ain’t he?” I could hear the grin in Niall’s voice. “Nice n’ tall, big curly locks,” he giggled. Niall Horan just giggled at me. “I just didn’t think you’d be strippin’ for him so soon there, Lou. Thought you liked a good ol’ game of _cat and mouse.”_ I looked over my shoulder and quirked an eyebrow at him. “You know, hard to get.” 

“We’re done here.” 

“Nah,” Niall laughed, turning my chair to face him before leaning against the edge of my desk, one ankle crossed over the other. I watched as he set his briefcase and jacket down on my desk before he continued. “I didn’t get to play wingman last night at the pub, the least I could do is play cupid with ya now.” 

Before I could respond, Barnes paused outside my cubicle and asked: “Don’t you girls have something better to do than gossip?” 

“Hey, Barnes, why don’t ya’ eat shit?” Niall glared. 

Greg Barnes never got along with us. He had been working for the company for many years, and when Niall and I were hired fresh out of uni, you could feel the bitterness seeping out of him. We all held the same position with Homelle & Dean, but we were half his age and, quite frankly, way better looking. Barnes and I didn’t speak to each other very often, but he and Niall shared a cubicle wall and were constantly at war. 

“I’m just saying that the T-23 report isn’t going to file itself,” Barnes said simply.

“File these,” Niall grabbed his crotch and winked. 

“Is this a game to you?” 

“I love games!” Niall exclaimed, clapping his hands together. “Let’s play my favorite. It’s called Hide and Go Fuck Yourself. You go first.” 

I stifled my laughter as Barnes put a hand on his oversized hip. “One of these days, Horan, that mouth is going to get you in serious trouble.” 

“This mouth got your mum in serious trouble last night.” 

“Real mature.” Barnes shook his head as he turned to leave. 

“ _Oh, Niall!_ Yes! Right there!” Niall moaned obscenely. I cackled loudly before slapping a hand over my mouth. “Do it to me, Daddy!” 

“You’re disgusting,” Barnes hissed. 

“Fuck off, would ya?” Niall rolled his eyes as he turned his back on Barnes, taking up his previous position at my desk. “What a fucking twat,” Niall groaned, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“He’s right, ya know,” I chuckled.

“The fuck he is,” Niall glared at me. 

“You _are_ gonna get in trouble one day because of that mouth.” 

“Oh, come off it,” Niall groaned. 

“Like that time in secondary school when you almost got suspension for telling Mr. Williams to ‘lick your cock’?” I cackled once at the memory and watched as a grin spread across Niall’s face. “Or! That time in primary school when you pushed that fat-kid Christopher down? And told him that his family tree must have been a cactus?!” I laughed louder, “because everyone on it was a prick?”

“That was a good one,” Niall chuckled. 

“ _Or_ that time when your mum grounded you for a week because you told her,” I cleared my throat before continuing in an Irish accent. _”Your legs are like Sainsbury’s- open 24/7!”_

Niall bent over laughing, gripping his sides tightly. 

“Who says that to their _mother?!_ ” I laughed loudly. 

“She was acting like a proper whore!” 

 

* * *

 

There were a few moments in my life that I felt like I was king of the world. 

Like, for instance, when I had kicked the game winning goal in my football championship. Everyone ran out onto the field as my team gathered around me and hoisted me up onto their shoulders. I had a huge school-girl crush on the captain of the footy team, Dreamy Dan, and I specifically remember _his_ hands were placed on my bum to hold me up. 

That was a pretty good moment. 

Another time, a little less significant but still king-of-the-world-ish, was when I visited the States with my family the summer before uni started. We stayed in New York City with some relatives from my father’s side and the first day I was there I _won the lottery._ My younger sister, Lottie, is quick to remind everyone that it was only eighteen american dollars. 

But a win is a win. I’m part of an elite [lottery winning] group. 

Either way, I can definitely remember a few times in my life when I really felt like I was at the top of the food chain. 

But now, standing at the boot of my car, staring at all the grocery bags from Tesco’s that I somehow had to manage to carry up three flights of stairs… I felt very small. When Niall’s phone went to voicemail for the second time in a row, I angrily pressed the “end call” button and crossed my arms over my chest. Making two trips was clearly out of the question, so instead I stood there, mapping out the best plan in my head. 

Do I hang them all on my left arm, so I can open the door with my right? 

Do I hang them all on my right arm and struggle to open the door with my left? 

Do I split them up between my two arms and figure out how to open the door once I get there? 

Do I pay the kids that are running around a few quid to help me? 

Where the fuck was Niall? 

Realizing that standing out in the cold wasn’t getting these bags any closer to my kitchen, I slipped my mobile into the back pocket of my jeans and began loading up my right arm with plastic bags. Once my arm was about to break, I grabbed the remaining four bags in my left hand and then somehow, in a moment of pure grace, was able to kick the boot closed with my foot. I stumbled my way towards the stairs, but as soon as I rounded the corner, one of the bags ripped causing all of it’s contents to dump out onto the pavement. 

The sound of glass shattering echoed in the small hallway, followed by a very loud “Fucking hell!” as I realized my entire foot was covered in tomato sauce. Then, calling on my football skills, I kicked out my left leg to stop the other [non-broken] jar before it rolled away. Satisfied that my groceries hadn’t run away from me, but still left with a tomato sauce covered shoe, I had the daunting task of of picking up the fallen items without dropping any more. “Stupid fucking, cheap fucking, pathetic little--” 

“Hey mate! You need some help?” 

I craned my neck around and watched as Harry jogged up behind me, pulling headphones out of his ears and draping the cord around the back of his neck. I eyed him up and down quickly, taking in his sweaty appearance of loose running shorts and a long black sleeve shirt, and my breath caught in my throat. It had been a few days since I had my first awkward-meeting with Harry, and that had been just long enough for me to forget how fit he was. 

But now, with one tomato covered foot and the other awkwardly stretched away from my body, my arms beginning to shake from the weight of the bags, I couldn’t help but feel a little bit like a damsel in distress. I could hear Niall’s voice in my head right now calling me “princess”.

“Please!” I gave off a pathetic whimper, not missing the way that Harry kneeled down in front of me, dangerously close to my crotch, to pick up the non-broken jar. He stood back up, pinning the jar between his arm and torso, before nodding his head towards the bags hanging off my arm. I held my arm out and watched as he took half of the bags into his own hands. 

“Thank you,” I smiled. 

He effortlessly transferred the pinned jar to his other side before offering to take some out of my other hand. I couldn’t help but blush when our fingers brushed together in the process, though that was a detail I would be sure to leave out when telling Niall later. Once we stood with an even amount of bags split between the two of us, he took a few steps back and grinned before saying: “After you.” 

“Um, you might want to go on ahead,” I nodded my head towards the stairs, “Or you’ll be walking in tomato sauce.” 

“I’ll live,” he laughed, “Go on.” 

I smiled shyly before heading up the stairs, Harry following close behind me. 

“You havin’ a party or summit?” He asked when we rounded the first flight of stairs, my shoe making an awful squishing sounds the whole way.

“No,” I laughed as we began on the second flight. “Niall kinda just… eats a lot.” 

_Squish._

“Ah,” Harry chuckled. “Well I know what he _won’t_ be eating.” 

_Squish._

“What’s that?” 

_Squish._

“Spaghetti.” 

I let out a breath of laughter, shaking my head in the process. When we finally got to the door, I shifted a few of the bags over onto my left arm and unlocked the door. 

“Lemme just-- If I could just--” I stuttered out as I awkwardly hopped on one foot, struggling to kick my shoe off, groaning in frustration as I almost lost my balance. “Maybe if I--” I leaned against the doorframe, finally able to hook the toe of my other shoe into the heel and slip my foot out. “ _Suck it,_ shoe!” I declared loudly, causing Harry to chuckle behind me as we shuffled into the kitchen. I eagerly set the bags down onto the floor before standing back, stretching my arm out as I watched Harry set his down, taking the jar that had been held tightly under his arm and placing it on the counter. 

Witchcraft. 

I looked down at my leg and frowned at the state of my sock. 

“Thanks for your help,” I smiled, “You’re a lifesaver.” 

“Not a problem,” he grinned. “I assume two trips was out of the question?” 

“You mean the walk of shame?”

“Right,” he chuckled. “Your shoe might feel differently, though…” he trailed off. I sighed loudly, reaching down to wipe a bit of sauce off of my jeans with my finger. How was it that I’ve managed to make a fool out of myself _both times_ Harry and I have been in the same room? This was Year 10 all over again. While I was normally very coordinated, everytime Dreamy Dan would look my way, I would always find a way to fall flat on my face. 

Except that _one_ time when, you know, I won the championship for us. 

Hence why that moment goes down as a King of The World moment. 

“Can I help you put all this away?” He knocked me out of my thoughts. 

“Oh, no, no,” I shook my head, grabbing a paper towel from the counter and wiping my hand off. “I’ve already inconvenienced you enough.” 

“Okay,” he smiled, “I’ll just be going then,” he said, nodding his head towards the door. 

Before I could think better of it, I quickly blurted out: “Perhaps I could make you lunch? To, you know, make up for it.” He hesitated for a moment, looking from the door back to me. “Unless you-- you know, have plans… or… something,” I stuttered out.

Smooth. Real smooth. 

“No plans,” he grinned. “Just, um… sweaty.” 

“Oh, right,” I nodded. “Of course. Another time?” 

“Tell you what,” he said, “I’m gonna go shower, and I’m pretty sure you’d like to clean the tomato sauce off you, but then I could come back?” 

“Perfect!” I answered a little too quickly. 

_Throw some ice on it, Lou!_ I could practically hear Niall yell. 

“Okay,” he nodded, smiling brightly at me. “Be back in twenty.” 

I waited until I heard the front door click before I let a loud groan leave my lungs. I leaned against the bar, folding my arms and banging my forehead down onto them. Was it possible for me to interact with Harry without making a dick of myself? And then I had offered to cook him lunch when I was shit at cooking.

I did the grocery shopping and Niall cooked it all, it was the perfection arrangement. 

“Niall!” I called out, raising my head and listening for a response. “Niall?!” 

Silence. 

Sighing again, I turned and grabbed one of the grocery bags, pulling out some of the items and heading towards the fridge. I paused with my hand on the door and read the message that was scribbled out onto the magnetic whiteboard. _“My phone committed suicide. Went to shove it up their posh-asses. Love you!”_ I rolled my eyes at Niall’s note before continuing to put the groceries away. 

After I was finished, I changed into a clean pair of jeans and straightened my shirt out. I then picked up my poor shoe, that I had left abandoned in the hallway, and gave it a good once over before deciding I should just throw it away. I’m sure I could have Googled _”How to clean tomato sauce off my shoe”_ but Google and I didn’t always see eye-to-eye. I’m sure it would just have a sassy response like **“Did you mean… How to not be a proper idiot?"** and then I’d be on the outs with Google.

For the third time this year. 

A knock on the door shook me from my thoughts and I rushed to open it. On the other side, Harry stood with damp curls, skinny black jeans and a plain white v neck. I smiled and opened the door wider for him to come inside, the soon-to-be-rubbish shoe still being held away from my body by my fingertips. 

“Is he a goner?” Harry asked, nodding towards my shoe as he closed the door. 

“Seems like it,” I sighed dramatically. 

“If it makes you feel any better, I’m pretty sure that the hallway is a goner too. Gonna smell like Italy every time we walk past.” 

“Oh god,” I groaned, stepping on the trashcan lever before dropping it in sadly. “Do you think the neighbors will hate me?” 

“Fuck em,” Harry shrugged. “I haven’t even lived here two weeks and I’m already about to make a scene with the people who live above me.” 

“They loud?” 

“Every time they walk around, all I can think to myself is: _fe fi fo fum_ ,” Harry laughed as he wobbled back and forth mimicking a giant. I laughed loudly, slapping my hand over my mouth to stop my obnoxious cackle. Harry cracked another smile and leaned up against the bar. “So, what’re you making? 

“Right!” I clapped my hands together from where I stood in the kitchen. “I think you’ll be quite impressed,” I smiled, pressing a few buttons on the oven until it came to life. 

“It involves the oven?” Harry raised a questioning eyebrow, “how Julia Child of you.” 

“You have no idea,” I laughed, opening the freezer door and grabbing the pizza from the bottom rack. “Now before you go and judge me,” I said, setting the pizza box down in front of him and watching as he smirked. “You gotta understand how many _decisions_ went into this pizza. You see, it’s not just grab whatever’s on sale,” I grimaced. “No, that won’t do,” I said with a shake of my head. “Hours of research and taste comparisons have gone into me picking the _finest_ selection of frozen pizza you will _ever_ eat.” 

“Mhmm,” he laughed. 

“I have done _vast_ research on the topic,” I stared directly at him. “And trust me when I say that I don’t share my top-of-the-line frozen-- _gourmet_ frozen pizza with just anybody.” 

“I’m honored.” 

“As you should be,” I nodded. 

“Can I help?” 

“Not sure if you’re qualified, mate,” I chuckled and gave a sarcastic shrug. “This is really professional stuff. It could get dangerous.” 

“Alright then,” he nodded. “So, how did your meeting go the other morning?” Harry asked, scooting out one of the bar stools and sitting down. 

“Ah, it went… okay,” I lied, popping open the pizza box and sliding the pizza onto a pan.

“Did you picture them all with their trousers down?” 

“God, no!” 

“My debate teacher told me it helped when public speaking,” he chuckled, shrugging slightly. 

“If you could see the men that were in this meeting,” I laughed loudly. “Trust me. Imagining them with their trousers down probably would have made me throw up everywhere.” I went over to the fridge and grabbed a beer from the door, holding one out for him and when he nodded I grabbed another for myself. I popped both open on the corner of the counter, a skill I acquired just this year, before sitting his down in front of him. 

“Where did you live before?” I asked, leaning against the kitchen island.

“Cheshire,” he replied before taking a sip of his beer. 

“Did ya’ move here for business then?” 

“Mmm…” He hummed, casting his eyes downwards before picking up his beer again and taking a long sip. “Not really… it’s a… long story.” 

“Oh, right,” I nodded. “Sorry, didn’t mean to pry.” 

“It’s okay,” he smiled, but I could tell it was forced. “Just not really a lunch conversation.” 

Fucking brilliant job, Louis. 

I smiled sadly, realizing that I had made him uncomfortable already. 

“Anyway,” he said after a few moments of awkward silence. “Um… how long have you known Niall?” 

“My whole life, basically,” I smiled and turned my attention to the oven when it gave off the pre-heated beep. “He moved next door to me when we were still in primary school. We were really the only kids on the block, everyone else was much older than us,” I explained as I slid the pan onto one of the oven racks. “So,” I nudged the oven door closed with my hip, “we just sort of hit it off.” I finished as I picked up my beer to take a sip. 

“So you two are... a couple?” 

That’s about when I spit beer everywhere. 

“No!” I coughed, covering my mouth and swallowing what was left. I wiped my chin with the back of my hand before looking down at my shirt, frowning when I saw the damp spots. 

I had once again made a fool of myself in front of him. 

“Sorry! I just… assumed… I don’t know what I thought!” He exclaimed, “I didn’t mean anything by it.” 

“I know my first impression on you was a bit confusing,” I winced at the memory. “But we were just… kidding,” I chuckled nervously. “Trust me,” I began, pulling at the bottom of my shirt to help the drying process along. “Niall and I… no, just no. Never.” 

“Oh,” Harry nodded, smiling slightly. 

“So you and _your_ flatmate then?” I raised both eyebrows at him. 

“Shauna? No,” Harry laughed, shaking his head. “She’s um… she’s like a sister.” 

“Ah,” I nodded. “And Niall’s like a brother.” 

“Right.” 

“Right.” 

Silence. 

We both reached for our beers at the same time and took extra slow slips, trying to rack our brains on what to say next. I didn’t know about him, but I had absolutely nothing to follow that conversation with. 

“So…” Harry trailed off. 

“Errm…” 

Just then, Niall burst through the front door and pointed a thumb over his shoulder before saying: “Did you see some wanker spilled tomato sauce everywhere?!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Huge shoutout to niallersdirtymofo for leaving me a comment! You're the best =) And thanks to everyone else who took time to read this!**


	5. Ikea Abyss

Later on that evening, Niall and I sat on opposite ends of the couch, xbox controllers in hand, in the middle of an intense Fifa game. Harry hadn’t stayed long after Niall had gotten home, probably because Niall ended up eating the majority of the frozen pizza. I’ll blame it on that, anyway. 

“Oh, I meant to ask you. Was that a date I interrupted earlier?” 

“What?” I asked, mashing down the A and B buttons on my controller and flying past Niall.

“You know, when you and Curly from ‘cross the hall were all snuggled up in the kitchen.” 

“If by snuggled up--” I paused briefly to kick a goal. “HA! Eat me, Horan!” I yelled victoriously, shooting Niall a toothy grin. “Anyway, if by ‘snuggled up’ you meant sharing a frozen pizza-- a frozen pizza that you ate most of, by the way-- then yeah. We were _real snuggled._ ” 

“‘S’what I thought.” 

“Mmm,” I hummed absentmindedly, squinting my eyes towards the TV. 

The room fell quiet again, except for the rapid clicking of our controllers, until Niall broke the silence a few minutes later. “You think he’s a pole-smoker?” 

“For fucks sake,” I glared at Niall. “You know, with the amount of times that you’ve made inappropriate gay jokes to me, I should have knocked you on your fat arse multiple times.” 

“Aw, don’t get your panties in a bunch, princess,” Niall laughed. “You know ‘sall in good fun.” 

“Fuck you,” I mumbled, clenching my tongue between my teeth as I focused on the game. 

“You know you’re me number one.” 

“I hope you trip.”

“Me _numero uno_.” 

“And burn your tongue next time you eat.” 

“You’re the Brad to me Angelina!” 

“And run out of toilet paper and have to waddle your way to the closet to get more.” 

“You are… you’re the wind beneath me wings!” 

“And I hope nobody calls you on your birthday.” 

“Well that’s fucking rude,” Niall gasped, and even though my eyes were still glued to the TV I could see him glaring at me out of the corner of my eye. “Here I am, just trying to tell ya how much I _adore_ you and you go and wish summin’ like that on me.”

“You deserve it.” 

“Okay, let me rephrase my question,” he sighed loudly. “Do you, my dear Louis, think he is a _homosexual?”_

I shrugged. 

“Think he’s into the _lads_?” 

“I don’t know.” 

“Do you think he’s--”

“Niall,” I turned and glared at him. “I don’t know.” 

“But you like him!” He grinned widely. 

“Piss off,” I rolled my eyes, turning back towards the telly. 

“I could tell by the way you look at him,” he laughed, “And I mean, I can see why! Hell, if I woke up gay tomorrow, I’d be running across the hall to him in a heart beat!” 

I turned and gave Niall a stale expression. 

“After _you and I_ had insanely hot bum sex, of course…” 

“Brilliant,” I mused. 

“Look Lou, this may not mean anything…” Niall paused. 

“What is it?” I sighed. 

“It’s just… well, I don’t get the…” he clicked his tongue in thought. “The vibe from him.” 

“What vibe?”

“You know… the _I prefer blokes_ vibe.” 

“Ugh,” I rolled my eyes again, huffing before continuing. “Not everybody gives off a _gay_ vibe.” 

“That’s true,” Niall nodded, “But, like, I’ve never been wrong before. I got me a real _keen_ gaydar, if you will. Shit, I spotted you before you even knew you were. That has to say something, yeah?” I sighed loudly but didn’t respond, adjusting my elbows on my knees and staring hard at the game, even though Niall had already set down his controller. “I’m just sayin, love, don’t put all your eggs in his curly lil’ basket,” Niall patted my leg twice before standing and heading towards the kitchen. 

I paused the game, setting the controller onto the coffee table before leaning back and letting a long breath of air leave my lungs. I let my eyes fall shut and listened as Niall opened and closed cabinets, mumbling quietly to himself. I thought about what he had just said, but it wasn’t the first time the thought had crossed my mind.

Actually, it was one of the first things that I had thought of.

I didn’t really expect him to be gay, in all honesty.

The beautiful ones never were. 

I waited until Niall had sat back down before I continued, my eyes still closed and my arms folded over my stomach. “I know you think I’ve suddenly become a Harry fangirl,” I chuckled dryly. “But… I don’t know,” I sighed quietly and opened my eyes, letting my head roll to the side and watch as Niall took an obscenely large bite from his cereal bowl. “I think he’s nice.” 

“I think he’s nice too,” Niall shrugged, wiping his chin with his shoulder before digging his spoon back in. “Not tellin ya you can’t be friends,” he paused to take another bite, then with a mouth full of cheerios he continued. “Just don’ wa’ you ta’--” He swallowed, “Get your hopes up. That’s all.” 

“My hopes aren’t up,” I lied, “I don’t really know him that well.” 

“Yewsh thursh nn him.” 

I raised a confused eyebrow. 

“You have a crush on him,” Niall repeated after he had swallowed. 

“I guess.” 

“My cute little boy,” Niall chuckled and reached over to pinch one of my cheeks. I quickly swatted his hand away and scooted further away from him. “With your little schoolboy crushes,” he cooed, making grabby-hands for my cheek. 

“Fuck off,” I groaned. 

“You want me to ask him then?” Niall raised an eyebrow, dipping his spoon back into the obnoxiously large bowl and shoveling more cereal into his already full mouth. 

“Absolutely no,” I shook my head, my eyes wide. “Don’t even think about it.” 

“Iight,” he shrugged, “Then you should.” 

“Horrible advice,” I narrowed my eyes. 

“Fucking amazing advice,” Niall corrected, pointing at me with the spoon he held in his left hand. 

“It’ll scare him off!” I cried. 

“Nah.” 

“What would _you_ do if a lad came up to you and asked if you were gay?” 

“Mate, do you know how many times I’ve been asked that?!” Niall laughed, his voice loud. “Everyone just assumes you and me,” he gestured back and forth with his spoon. “Are, like, you know. Boyfriends.” 

“Harry thought we were.”

“For fucks sake!” Niall whined, leaning back into the couch and cradling the large bowl in his right arm. “Can’t a nice lad like myself live with his gay roommate without his _intentions_ being questioned every few days?! Fucking hell, I love pussy!” 

“Gross.” 

“No! It’s not gross! It’s fucking fantastic!” 

“I don’t know what you see in it,” I made a disgusted face in his direction. “I don’t even like the _word_ pussy. So if you could _scratch that_ from your vocabulary, that’d be great.” 

“You know, after all that talk before about how I demoralize your people, you sure are quick to spit insults against _my_ people.” 

“Straight people?” 

“Yes! My people!” 

I rolled my eyes, staring at the green bowl that was still cradled like a child in Niall’s arms, when it suddenly dawned on me.

“Are you eating out of a mixing bowl?!”

* * *

  


I was rounding the last flight of stairs a few days later, my briefcase hanging off my shoulder and my work blazer draped over my arm, my keychain jingling obnoxiously in my hand, when I spotted Harry standing outside my front door. I watched as he ran his fingers through his hair once before knocking on the door, taking a step back and his hands fidgeting together in front of him. 

And if I took a glance at his bum, wondering how it was that he fit in such tight jeans, well… that could just stay between me, myself and I. 

“Harry?” 

“Oh, fuck!” He whipped around, “You scared me!” 

“Sorry,” I laughed. “Didja need summin’?” 

“Oh, um, right,” he paused. “I… um, had a favor to ask you.” 

“Shoot.” 

He crossed his arms over his chest, which was covered in a dark grey long sleeve, staring down at the ground and awkwardly kicking a non-existent pebble. “How good are you at… putting stuff together?” 

“Like… what kind of stuff?” I raised an eyebrow when he glanced up at me. 

“Furniture?” 

“Oh…” I trailed off. 

“You see,” he began, uncrossing his arms and taking a step towards me. “I needed a desk, right? So I thought I would just pop by the Ikea I spotted a few days ago. Which, in my head, seemed like a really great idea… but then I lost like, three hours of my life? And I ended up buying all this… _crap_ that I don’t need, when really all I needed was a desk!” 

“Mhmm,” I chuckled lightly. “I’m with you so far.” 

“So then, after my Ikea black out, I spent the next hour bringing all the stuff I bought upstairs. Then _two hours_ after _that_ to put everything together. Well, almost everything,” he sighed. “My flat looks like a page right out of their catalog right about now.” 

“Ah, yes,” I laughed, “You fell victim to the Ikea abyss.” 

“Right,” he let out a breath of laughter. “But… this bloody desk! I’m tellin’ you, mate, it’s fucking defective. And if I wasn’t about to take a sledgehammer to the thing, or tear all my hair out at the roots, I wouldn’t be asking you. But it’s… taunting me.” 

“That bastard.” 

“It’s just… sitting there,” he held an expression of disgust. “Mocking me.” 

“I’ve heard those Ikea desks are known for their bullying.” 

“Exactly!” He laughed, “So… any chance you’re free to help?” 

“I--” I started to tell him that I was absolute shit at putting things together, but he was quick to cut me off. 

“I’d owe you big time! Forever in your debt! Anything you want in return, I’ll do it!” 

My cock twitched. 

_Ice, Lou, ice!_

“Of course I’ll help you,” I smiled. “Lemme just change, yeah?” 

“You’re the best!” He grinned, “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” 

We separated into our respective apartments and once the door had closed, I dropped my briefcase and jacket onto the dining table. I paused for a moment, listening for any movement in the apartment, before calling out to Niall. When I got silence in return, I peered around the corner to the refrigerator whiteboard. 

_”Gettin’ pussy.”_

“Jesus,” I muttered after I had read it. So much for removing that god-awful word from his vocab. I made quick work of changing out of my clothes and into something more casual, dark jeans and a black hooded jumper, and I slipped my mobile into my back pocket before heading across the hall to Harry’s. 

I knocked on the door twice, the cement underneath cold on my bare feet. 

“It’s open!” I heard Harry call from behind the door. “Where the hell are your shoes?” Was the first thing he said once I had stepped inside. 

“I hate shoes,” I shrugged, taking a look around his flat for the first time. The set up was the same as mine, though the entire flat was spotless. Unfortunately for me, both Niall and myself were messy and hated cleaning the flat, so I took a moment to appreciate what ours could look like if we ever cleaned. 

“But it’s winter.”

“Yeah?” I laughed, shrugging. 

“No socks even?” 

“Ehhh,” I brushed it off. “You weren’t lying when you said you went a little Ikea crazy,” I nodded towards the discarded boxes that were stacked by the door. 

“I know. I have a problem,” Harry frowned, hanging his head in shame. 

“Happens to the best of us,” I grinned, “So, where’s this bitch of a desk?” 

“Right,” Harry nodded, “This way,” he waved for me to follow him as we headed down the hallway. I would have taken a moment to fangirl at the thought of going into his bedroom, but I was too busy looking around at all of the pictures hung on the wall in uniform black frames. 

“Did you take all of these?” I asked, pausing in the hallway to look at the collage of pictures. 

“Most of em,” he smiled. “I was big into photography growing up,” he explained, stepping over to where I was standing and looking at the pictures as well. “It drove my friends and family nuts,” he chuckled. I glanced at him for a second, laughing quietly as well, before turning my attention back to the frame. 

Inside held about ten different pictures of all different sizes. The first one to catch my eye was the biggest one, right in the middle of all the others, of him and a brown-haired girl. With their fancy outfits and the pose they were standing in, it was clear that it must have been some sort of school formal. His arm was looped around her back and she was leaned into him, her hand on his chest. 

“This one here,” he pointed to a different one, “Is me and my mum. And that’s my sister, Gemma,” he pointed to a different one. “She’s a few years older than me but we get on quite good now,” he glanced over at me and smiled. “And this embarrassing picture,” he laughed as he pointed to a smaller one in the corner. I leaned in closer, “Is my band that I used to be in.”

“Band?” I raised an eyebrow at him, grinning before turning back to the picture. He stood in the middle, with baggy khaki pants and an oversized white button up shirt, his hair much shorter and curlier than it was now. He was holding a microphone to his mouth, his eyes squeezed shut. 

“Yeah,” he laughed. “We were awful.” 

“So you sing?” 

“No,” he shook his head. “I tried to sing, but, I’m no good.” 

“Well, we’ll just have to see about that,” I laughed. “How old were you there?” 

“Bout fifteen.” 

“And now you’re…?”

Smooth. 

“Ermm… twenty one.” 

“You’re a baby!” I snapped my head towards him. 

“You’re not exactly the crypt-keeper.” 

“I’m ‘bout to be twenty four, mate. I’m an old man.” 

“Well, good! That means you have more experience putting furniture together!” He beamed, wrapping his hand around my forearm and pulling me further down the hall. “Don’t think you got yourself out of this by distracting me,” he laughed, still holding onto my forearm as we stepped into his room. 

Once we were past the doorway though, he let go. I took another moment to glance around his room. There were a few more pictures on the wall, as well as some canvas artwork, and after seeing how spotless the rest of the flat was, I wasn’t surprised to see his bed made up perfectly. There were still a few boxes spread about the room, dark grey curtains hung over the window, and in the middle of all it was the damn half-put-together desk. 

“She’s a right bitch, isn’t she?” I nodded towards the desk. 

“You have no idea,” he sighed. 

“Well, let’s get to it,” I held out my hand and accepted the instructions he was holding out. I unfolded it and stared at them for a few minutes, making small “mhmms” as I pretended to understand what I was reading, nodding every once in a while to really sell it. I glanced up from the sheet and over to Harry, who stood before me with one arm crossed over his stomach and the other brought up to his face, biting intently on his thumb nail. “Right,” I nodded firmly once more. 

“You actually… understand all that?”

“Oh, fuck no,” I shook my head, tossing the instructions onto his bed. “We’re gonna wing it.” I watched as he pulled his hand away from his mouth and broke out into a grin. “We’re smart lads,” I laughed, “I’m sure we can figure this out.” 

Wrong. 

Two hours later, after we had put part of it together backwards and had to re-do everything we just did, I groaned loudly and sat back on my calves. “Fuck this,” I declared, “This is fucking impossible.” 

“I knowww,” Harry whined, scooting back on the floor until his back was rested against the wall, his legs pulled up in front of him. I watched as he folded his arms around his knees and rested his forehead on them. “I don’t know how they expect you to assemble shit with _pictures_ instead of words in the instructions,” he mumbled into his arms. “Not even pictures!” He popped his head up, “Poorly drawn… cartoons!” 

“Fucking morons,” I muttered, sitting back until I was propped against the end of his bed, my legs sprawled out on the floor in front of me. “You can live without a desk, yeah?” I asked hopefully. 

“Well, I’m a graphic designer,” he paused. “I’ve been doing a lot of my work on my laptop… but I really need this bloody desk so I can set up my real computer,” he sighed loudly. 

“Can’t you just…” I trailed off, pushing up onto my feet and dragging a few of the cardboard boxes that were around the room together into a pile. I cocked my head to the side in thought before picking one up and stacking it on the other, then rearranging the one on the right. I grabbed a smaller box that had been behind the door and placed it on top of the others. I glanced over my shoulder at Harry, who was watching intently from his spot on the floor, before I smiled brightly at him. “There ya go! A nice _environmentally friendly_ desk.” 

“You’re ridiculous,” he cackled. “You made me a desk.” 

“Yes I did,” I nodded in confirmation. 

“You think it could hold my computer?” He grinned. 

“Hmm,” I paused, looking around the room for something to test it with. I noticed a backpack leaning against the wall and snatched it up, giving it a few light shakes to test the weight before plopping it down on one of the boxes. The empty box instantly crumpled from the weight and Harry let off another loud cackle. “Ehh… details.” 

“Pretty important details, I’d say,” he said between laughs. 

“Maybe you could go back to photography…?” I offered with a slight shrug. 

“I don’t think so,” he laughed, shaking his head. 

“Give that ol’ singing career another shot?” 

“I’d have more luck selling my body on the street.” 

You got that right. 

“Maybe,” I grinned, stuffing my hands inside my jumper pocket. He was still looking at me. 

“You made me a desk,” he shook his head, another breath of laughter coming out. 

“Another failure,” I sighed, “guess we can just add that to our list today, huh?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Shout-out to my other half, Boyo, for commenting and putting up with my crap. Shout-out to the rest of you ghost readers who haven't commented yet =) I appreciate you guys just as much!**


	6. 50 Ways To Say You Died

It was a particularly slow day at the office. 

Not that a lot of days were filled to the brim with excitement, but this one seemed especially slow. I had spent the majority of the morning preparing my documents that weren’t due til the end of the week, even though it’s only Tuesday, and was able to finish them all before lunch. Afterwards I treated myself to some YouTube videos and even poked around Twitter for a while, even though I still wasn’t quite sure how Twitter worked because yeah, I’m that guy. 

I was just about to start contemplating the different ways I could commit suicide when my phone buzzed loudly next to me. I glanced over at it and raised an eyebrow when I didn’t recognize the number. I grabbed the phone and slid it unlocked before clicking on the message and reading it. 

_I’ve won the game._

I didn’t often get texts from people who weren’t already a contact in my phone, and for a moment I thought about googling the “let’s play a game” meme from the movie Saw and sending that back as a response. I even went as far as bringing up Safari and typing in the word “let’s” before I decided it was too much work. Instead, I tapped out a quick response and hit send. 

**And what game might that be?**

I set the iPhone down in front of me, leaning back in my chair and stretching my arms above my head. My stomach was already growling and it was only eleven in the morning. I sighed quietly to myself, running my hands through my hair when my phone buzzed again. I popped my chair back upright and tapped on the picture that was sent as a response. 

My expression broke out into a grin when I recognized the desk that Harry and I had attempted to put together the night before. When I had left, the desk was still only half put together in the middle of his room; but in the picture that he just sent me it was fully put together and against the wall where it belonged. In the corner of the picture I noticed his hand outstretched and in the thumbs up position. I chuckled quietly to myself and before I could respond he had already sent another message. 

_The game where I outshine Bob The Fucking Builder!!!_

I laughed again, shaking my head to myself as I rested my elbows on my desk and replied. 

**You didn’t!**

_I did._

_It’s a bit dodgy...but after the amount of hours that I’ve spent trying to put this piece of shit together, I simply don’t care._

_I realize now that I should have spent a few extra pounds and bought one that was pre-assembled._

I watched as the three messages came in back to back, chuckling quietly as I read them. I waited a moment before responding, to make sure that he was finished. 

**Life lesson learned, mate!**

_Fuck Ikea -____-_

“Niall?” I called out, raising my head and listening for an answer. 

“Yeah?” 

“Did you… give Harry my number?” I asked over the cubicle wall, staring down at the last message he had sent. 

“Nah,” was his reply. I chewed on my bottom lip in thought, wondering how it was that he had managed to get my number. There was a moment of silence before Niall spoke up again, “didja want me to?” 

“No need,” I chuckled quietly. “Already got it…” I trailed off. 

“Kay,” Niall responded, clearly uninterested in my conversation. 

**You know, I built you a pretty damn good cardboard box desk with me own two hands! You should have just returned that shit Ikea one.**

_Hahaha! That’s true._

_I’ll cherish the one you built forever! =P_

Another grin spread across my face and I could feel my cheeks heat up. He had clearly meant the second text as a joke, but I couldn’t stop myself from blushing anyway. The conversation that I had with Niall the other night ran through my head, specifically when he told me not to put all of my eggs into Harry’s basket.

I really had become quite the fangirl. 

My thumbs hovered over my phone’s keyboard for a moment, trying to think of a nice, neutral response. What I really wanted to do was ask him to bend me over that damn Ikea desk, but I didn't think that’d go over as well.

**You better.**

There. That’s more appropriate. 

_You at work?_

**Un-fucking-fortunately. I was thinking of the best way to kill myself when you texted. Maybe you could help?**

_What are your options?_

**Well, there’s always the roof.**

_Hmmm… how tall is your building? O_o_

**4 storeys.**

_Risky. You might not actually die… just break your neck and become paralyzed._

**That might not be such a bad thing.**

**Wouldn’t have to work… would be fed… would be bathed…**

**It would almost be like I was a kid again.**

_You would have a catheter jammed up your dick..._

**Ouch...**

_Not to mention the fact you’d probably drool everywhere. Nobody likes a drooler._

**Fuck.**

_What else you got?_

**Could fill up the sink with water, sit in it, then drop the kitchen’s toaster in.**

_Sounds like a lot of work. What else?_

**Drink bleach?**

_Do you have any bleach?_

**No…**

_Could you get any?_

**...Maybe**

_...What else?_

**Hang myself. With my tie. In my cubicle.**

_Run the risk of someone finding you before you run outta air._

**Would that be grounds for going home early?**

_I’d say so._

**Could be worth it.**

_Any other options then?_

**Lay down in the road?**

_They’d just swerve around you._

**Hmm…**

**There’s a nice pair of scissors on my desk. Slit my wrist maybe?**

_I think you’re stuck with the living, mate._

**You’re just no help at all.**

_Sorry =/_

I couldn’t hide the grin that was plastered to my face. I leaned back in my desk chair, my phone held tightly in my hands, trying to think of something else to say to keep the conversation going. I was in the process of constructing the text in my head when I saw the typing bubble appear next to his name. 

_I want to celebrate my newly found Bob the Builder skills. You get a lunch break?_

“Niall!” I hissed, my eyes widening before scooting my chair backwards and rolling over to Niall’s cube. He was hunched over in front of his computer, his elbow propped on his desk and his head tilted and resting against his palm. I couldn’t see it yet, but I knew his phone was tucked up tightly in front of him playing that damned Candy Crush game that he’s become obsessed with. He turned his head over his shoulder and watched as I pulled myself towards him with my feet. “He wants to have lunch!”

“Who?” 

“Harry, you prat!” I slapped the back of his head. 

“Ow! What’d ya do that for?” He cried, rubbing the back of his head. 

“What do I say back?” 

“I don’t fucking know,” he grumbled. “Go away,” he swatted at me, then put his elbow back on the desk and took up his previous position. “I’m busy.” 

“Niall!” I whined, grabbing onto his shoulder with both hands and pulling. 

“Stop it,” he swatted at me again. “I’m _busy._ ”

“You’re playing fucking Candy Crush,” I stared blankly at him.

“Yeah,” he nodded, “and I’ve been stuck on this fucking level for like three-god-damn-days now!” He narrowed his eyes at me before he continued. “So you need to _fuck off_ until I’m done.” 

“Some friend you are,” I huffed, pushing back from his desk and rolling my way back to my cubicle. I stared at the phone for another moment or so before I picked it back up, swiped the phone unlocked and tapped out the next text with my thumbs. 

_Celebration is necessary! Lunch is at 12. My work is across town though..._

**Not a problem, just text me the address and I’ll be there at 12.**

“Niall!” I stage whispered.

Silence. 

“Niall!” I repeated, much louder than before. “We’re having lunch!” 

“Louis William Tomlinson!” He exclaimed, banging his fist down on his desk. “Do you not understand how busy I am?” 

“Would you ladies pipe down?!” I heard Barnes chime in from his desk.

“Fuck off!” Niall and I both said in unison.

I slapped my hand over my mouth to contain my laughter after the fact. 

Niall did not. 

Biting my bottom lip, I picked my phone back up and typed out my work’s address before setting it back down and grinning to myself. My stomach was full of butterflies and there wasn’t anything I could do about it. I didn’t have much of a choice other than to throw all my eggs into Harry’s beautiful basket, per say. I heard Niall sigh loudly, slapping his phone down onto his desk and by the loud squeak his chair gave off, I could tell he had leaned far back.

“So, lunch, huh?” 

“Yup.” 

“But… who’s gonna eat lunch with me then?”

  


* * *

  


_I’m in the lobby. The receptionist is staring at me…_

_I think she knows I don’t belong here?_

_...I’m gonna have to ask you to hurry up._

_I can’t take her judgemental stares._

_I’ll be outside._

I stood at the elevator, laughing quietly to myself as his text messages came in one after another. 

**Sorry! I’m on my way down.**

I hit the button for the lobby and stood back in the elevator, slipping my phone into my pocket and began fidgeting with the zipper on my jacket. I was worried that it would be awkward, or we wouldn’t have anything to talk about, because… well, I worry about these things. I’m not really shy anymore, and Harry and I didn’t have any awkwardness when I was at his flat last night, but the nerves were still weighing me down. 

I stepped out of the elevator and couldn’t help but stifle a laugh when I saw the receptionist. She was an older woman who always had a sour expression on her face, I can only imagine the dirty looks she had been shooting Harry’s way. 

When I stepped outside I looked left and right, finally spotting Harry leaning against the fence that surrounded a flower garden off to the side of the building. He had his insanely tight black jeans on again and a thick black jacket bundled up to his chin. One ankle crossed over the other, he was staring down at the phone in his hands and it wasn’t until I was almost standing in front of him that he noticed I was there. 

“Hey,” he smiled. 

“Hey, sorry about that!” I chuckled, “I was trying to leave, but then this shit-eater, Barnes, stopped me and, well, he’s pretty much the biggest asswipe on the face of the planet, so.…” 

“It’s all good,” he waved it off, then stuffed his hands inside his coat pocket. “So where do you normally go for lunch?” 

“There’s a cafe about two blocks that way,” I nodded my head in the general direction.

“Sounds good.”

“So, you finally got that bloody thing together, yeah?” I laughed as we began walking. 

“Yes!” He exclaimed, “I felt like such a… such a…”

“Man?” 

“Yes! Like a _man!_ ” He laughed loudly, turning his head to look at me. “Did you ever see that film Cast Away?” I was silent for a moment, trying to recall which one he was talking about. Sensing my confusing, he continued. “You know, the one with Tom Hanks… he’s stuck on an island… makes a best mate out of a football?” 

“Oh! Yeah, I’ve seen that! Wilsonnnn!” I laughed, imitating Tom Hanks’ voice. 

“Exactly!” He chuckled, “there’s a scene in that movie when he makes fire for the first time, and he’s _so_ happy about it! He’s running around with his torch, screaming to nobody that _he_ had made fire.” 

“Yes! That was amazing,” I laughed. 

“Well, I pretty much reenacted that whole scene when I finally got that _damn_ desk together,” he smirked. “I was running around my flat, _screaming_ at the top of my lungs about how I had beat the system! I made that desk my _bitch._ You should have seen the look on Shauna’s face,” he ranted as I laughed along with him. “I want the whole world to know what I did with these two hands,” he said, holding his hands out in front of him. 

“As you should!” I grinned, “though you might want to leave out _how long_ it took you, when you tell your epic tale…” 

“Right,” he nodded. “Probably a good idea. Bet you won’t be able to guess what film I watched last night…” he joked, looking over and grinning at me. 

“Hmm, Cast Away maybe?” 

“You’re a damn mind-reader!” 

“One of my many talents,” I laughed. We made eye contact for a split second, a toothy grin spread across his face, before we both turned our attention forward again. We walked the next block in comfortable silence until we reached the cafe. “Just a fair warning,” I paused as he opened the door, gesturing for me to go before him. “Don’t order the tuna-melt.” 

“No tuna-melt. Got it,” he chuckled, following me inside the building. 

“Everything else is good,” I assured him, “just… don’t get the tuna.” 

“Dare I ask?” 

“Let’s just say… it was a bad night.” 

“Ah,” he winced, “definitely no tuna.” 

We sat down at one of the booths and while he took a moment to look over the menu, I sat with mine closed in front of me. 

“Don’t even need to look?” He chuckled. 

“Nope,” I grinned, “I get the same thing every time. Ever since that tuna incident, I’ve been very boring.” I removed my jacket and laid it on the bench next to me, unbuttoning the sleeve cuffs of my black button up before rolling them up to my elbows. When I looked up I noticed that Harry had been watching me, but he quickly averted his eyes back to the menu. 

The waiter came around to take our order just then. 

“So, graphic design, huh?” I raised both of my eyebrows. 

“Yeah,” he nodded with a smile. “It’s pretty cool. I get to work from home most of the time, since the majority of what I do is done on my computer.” He removed his jacket as well, revealing the dark blue and black flannel he had on. I couldn’t help but stare as he shook his hair out and then ran his fingers through it. 

When the food arrived a little while later, he had just finished telling me about the time he set his school’s toilet on fire and got suspended for two weeks. 

“I didn’t know I was dining with an arsonist,” I laughed. 

“I like to keep you guessing,” he shrugged and I tried to hide the smile that was trying to take over my features. 

“Ugh, tomatoes,” I grimaced, flipping my sandwich open and peeling the tomatoes off, dropping them onto the side of my plate with a disgusting _plop._

“Ugh, onions,” Harry groaned, removing the onions from his sandwich and placing them on the edge of his plate. We were both silent for a moment while I watched him reconstruct his sandwich, taking his time to make sure everything was placed perfectly before setting the top piece of bread back down. Internally though, I was struggling on whether or not I should reach over and snatch up his discarded onions. 

“You, um, you don’t like onions?” 

“No,” he gagged, “they’re disgusting.” 

“Hmm,” I hummed, thinking it over for another split second before I quickly reached across and picked up the slices with my fingertips. “Well, I think they’re delicious,” I smirked, lifting up my bread and placing the onions on top of the ones that were already there. I replaced the bread before squishing the sandwich flat, giving him a toothy grin in the process. 

I watched as he reached his arm forward, towards my plate, before he paused and asked: “I take it you don’t like tomatoes?” 

“Fuck no! Take em,” I said with a laugh, scooting my plate closer to his hand. 

“Like a match made in heaven,” he laughed, stacking the tomato slices onto the other condiments. I had to keep reminding myself not to take everything so seriously, but he wasn’t exactly making it easy for me. It seemed like he had been flirting with me the whole day, _and_ he had driven all the way out here just to have lunch with me. That definitely meant something. 

So yeah, maybe he didn’t give off the _gay_ vibe (According to Niall.) but I knew there was definitely chemistry between us. Even if it was mostly one sided, and he probably didn’t realize just how easy I was, it was still there. 

“How’d you get my number?” I asked casually, holding the sandwich with both hands and taking a bite. I set the sandwich down, then leaned back in my chair slightly as I waited for his answer. He made a show of chewing, holding up a finger as if to say _hold on_ , then took his time taking a sip of his drink afterwards. 

“What was that?” 

I rolled my eyes, “how’d you get my number?” 

“I have my ways,” he shrugged, his upper lip twitching as he tried not to smile. 

“You’re not gonna tell me?” I laughed, my jaw dropping in mock offense. 

“Nope,” he shook his head. “I told you, I like to keep you guessing.” 

The rest of the meal was spent joking back and forth, trying not to spit food everywhere when one of us would crack the other up. We had both finished our meals, our plates pushed towards the center of the table, and were finishing a discussion about the music we listened to. (Harry’s response was that he listened to everything, which I immediately challenged because I hated when people said that.)

“So, Harry,” I started, after I had been debating in my head whether or not I wanted to ask him. As casually as I could muster, I cleared my throat and continued. “You got yourself a girlfriend?” 

“Nah,” he shook his head. “No girlfriend.” 

“Nice lad like yourself?” I laughed, trying my best not to show my excitement. “No girl has snatched you up?”

He shook his head, laughing lightly.

“What about you? Girlfriend?” He raised both eyebrows in my direction.

“No,” I shook my head, pausing for a moment and taking in his expression. My pulse thrummed in my ears as I took a deep breath and continued. No matter how _out_ I was, it was always awkward when I told someone for the first time. “I’m, um… well, I’m gay.” I stared at him intently, trying to read his facial features but he was still smiling exactly the same as before. “But, um, no boyfriend either?” 

Without missing a beat or hesitating in anyway, he repeated the words I had just said to him. “Nice lad like yourself?” 

Dammit, Harry. You were supposed to give me _some sort_ of clue as to how that made you _feel._

By the time we had walked back to my office building and we stood just outside the lobby entrance, I didn’t want him to go. The thought of going back to work after such a nice lunch out made me sick. 

“So… I guess I’ll see you at home then?” He asked with raised eyebrows.

I like the way that sounds. 

“Yeah,” I nodded, smiling brightly at him. 

“Was this better than killing yourself?” He grinned at me. 

“Much better.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Thank you so much for reading! Hopefully the format of the texts in this chapter wasn't too confusing... I tried my best to make it, you know, readable! I got so many great comments on the last chapter! HUUUUGE shout out to LouisLoves (x2!!) Daria, larrydirectionmcflied and Emily! Y'all are awesome and fantastic and amazing and every other describing word that I can think of. And to the ghost readers: Bitches, I see you! I see you reading! =) I hope you're enjoying it too! I feel your love alllllllllllllllllllllllllllll the way from... you know... where-ever-the-fuck you're from! LOVE YOU ALL!**


	7. You Owe Me.

For the first time in a long time, I wasn’t excited that it was Friday. Normally Friday was the only day I would come into work and be excited about the day ahead. I knew that for the next two days I could sit at home in my fat pants and do nothing but watch TV shows and eat junk food. I lived and breathed for the weekends, counted down the days all throughout the week, planned what episodes I would be watching and where I would be watching them from. 

I mean, I had options. 

The couch?

My bed? 

At the kitchen table? (Which of course makes access to food that much easier.)

But none of this applied to _this_ particular weekend. 

It was still the beginning of December, but my office was already in full holiday mode. The lobby had already been decked out in Christmas gear and I’ve seen enough tinsel laying about that I could throw up at any second. Overachievers had even decorated their individual offices and cubicles with twinkling fairy lights and little tiny Christmas trees. 

Even Niall had gone out of his way to hang up a picture of Charlie Brown in his cubicle. 

I had done nothing of the sort. 

Don’t get me wrong, this is my favorite time of year. I love Christmas! I was born _the day before_ Christmas. But because of the fact that everyone was already in the damn Christmas spirit, they decided to throw the office’s holiday party early this year. 

Tomorrow. 

Saturday. 

So not only did I have to spend one of my precious nights off at a fucking _gala_ , thrown in a ballroom of some fancy hotel, but Niall was going to be a miserable son-of-a-bitch the whole time. He had come down with the flu earlier this week and still hasn’t recovered. The past few days at work have been insanely boring without my partner in crime, though Harry has been doing a good job of keeping me busy with texts throughout the day. 

“Where’s your husband?” Barnes asked, knocking me out of my thoughts. 

“Don’t you have something better to do?” I groaned, glancing over my shoulder and glaring at him. 

“Normally you two are attached at the hip,” he laughed. 

“Fuck off,” I mumbled, turning my back to him. I picked up my phone and typed out a quick text to Harry. 

**10 more minutes and I’m a free man!**

_I finished my work at 3 today =) Been really productive ever since!_

**Really? What all have you done?**

_...You know… important things…_

**Like…?**

_Watched 4 episodes of Friends… *hangs head in shame* Startin’ my 5th one right now._

**Productive my ass!!!**

_Don’t judge me, Tomlinson!_

**Oh. The surname. I see.**

_Yup. That happened._

I smiled down at my phone before I glanced at the clock, my smile growing wider when I saw it was finally time for me to go home. I clicked the lock button on my phone and stood, slipping my phone into my pocket before gathering all my stuff together to go home. Harry and I continued texting back and forth, even when I stopped off at a shop and had to wait in an extra long queue to get Niall some soup. 

_Soup?! Did you bring me any?!_

**Are you sick?**

_...Nooo… but I’m hungry!_

**Sorry, mate. My delivery service only goes to the ill.**

_Boo, you whore!_

**Did you just…**

_I did._

**Mean Girls?!**

_Yup. And you got the reference, so don’t try and tell me you haven’t seen it._

I read his last text, laughing loudly to myself as I shut the car door and headed towards the stairs. I readjusted the paper bag in my left hand, using my right to tap out another text. It would have been easier to wait until I got upstairs to text him back, given that my hands were rather full, but that didn’t stop me.

**Didn’t take you for the type.**

_How many times do I have to tell you… I like to keep you guessing =)_

I read his text just as I rounded the stairs to our floor, smiling to myself before slipping the phone back into my pocket. I paused in front of my door, looking over my shoulder to glance at his door. I imagined him sprawled out on the couch just on the other side, phone in his hand, Friends playing in the background; hopefully there was a smirk on his face. If I was brave, I would have knocked on his door. With no reason to be there except that I wanted to see his face light up when I made him laugh, rather than just imagining it. 

I sighed quietly, shaking myself from my thoughts and unlocking the door to my flat. 

“Ohhh, Niall!” I called out in a sing song voice, kicking the door closed with my heel and heading further into the flat. I stopped by the dining table to drop my belongings on it, then made my way into the kitchen to grab a bowl for his soup. “Dinner has arrived!” I called out again, pausing with my hand on the cabinet door as I listened for a response. When all I got in return was silence, I grabbed a bowl and set it on the countertop, spinning around to grab my phone from the bar. 

I typed with my left hand as I unfolded the paperbag with my right, picking up the container of soup and setting it on the counter. 

**Yes, you’re quite the mystery, Styles. (Oooooooh, I can be cool, too.)**

Smiling to myself, I set the phone down and poured the soup from the takeout container into the large bowl. Pausing on my way out to grab a spoon, I made my way down the hallway and knocked lightly on Niall’s door before cracking it open. 

“Wake up, sickey,” I cooed, entering the room. “Time to eat.” 

“No,” Niall frowned. He was curled up on his side, the heavy duvet wrapped tightly around him, his eyes still shut. 

“You have to eat,” I insisted. 

“I’m not hungry,” he said, his voice hoarse. 

“Well that has to be a first,” I chuckled, reaching underneath the table lamp and clicking it on. He groaned loudly, bringing the duvet over his face to hide from the light. “Budge up,” I said, patting his leg until he moved over. I sat down on the edge of his bed, curling one leg underneath me, before I continued. “I stopped off at Dilly’s to get your favorite soup,” I told him. “The least you can do is eat it.” 

“No.” 

“Don’t be a baby.” 

“No.” 

“Niall.”

“No!” 

“Don’t make me call your mum,” I laughed. 

There was a moment of silence before he spoke again, “What kind of soup?” 

“Chicken.” 

“Spicy?” 

“Yes.” 

“Crackers?” 

“Right here,” I said, rubbing the packages of crackers together so he could hear them. 

“Fine,” he sighed. He folded the duvet back, revealing his beet-red face and flushed neck. 

“Do you have a temperature?” I frowned at his appearance. He sat up a little, coughing in the process, before shrugging slightly. “Maybe you should go see the doctor,” I suggested, waiting until he held his hands out in front of him before handing him the bowl. He reached out with his left hand and snagged the spoon from my hand, ignoring the advice I had just given him. 

“Crush the crackers.”

“Bitch,” I laughed. “I’m not your slave.” 

For the first time in a few days he cracked a smile at me. I rolled my eyes, crushing up the cracker packets in my hand before dumping them into the bowl. I stood, dropping the empty packages into the bin, then pressed the back of my hand against Niall’s forehead. 

“You’re hot.” 

“You’re not so bad yourself,” he said, winking and then going into another coughing fit. 

I frowned again. “I’m serious, dickhead.” 

“I’m fine,” he said, slurping the soup off his spoon loudly. “Can you make me some tea, too?” 

“You know,” I paused, narrowing my eyes. “You’re awfully needy when you’re sick.” 

He stared up at me, his pathetic puppy-dog eyes blinking sadly, knowing that I would give in. With another roll of my eyes, I nodded and turned to leave his room, “Thanks baby!” he yelled, coughing loudly afterwards. I stopped off in my room first and changed out of my work clothes, pulling on a pair of grey trackies and a black jumper, then heading back to the kitchen. 

When the tea was done brewing, I made my way back into Niall’s room, the two steamy mugs held in my hands. He had sat up further, his legs still covered by his duvet, and was busy scraping the “jiggly bits” (As he called them.) from the bottom of the bowl. I set his mug down on the bedside table, then sat down on the edge of his bed. 

He took a sideways glance at the mug, his eyes narrowing before he gave me a look of disgust.

“What is that shit?” 

“It’s tea, you dick.” I glared back.

“That’s not how I take my tea.” 

“I know,” I shrugged. “But when you’re sick it’s best to drink it with honey and lemon.” 

“But _I don’t like_ honey and lemon,” he glared, setting his empty bowl down on his lap. 

“Fine,” I said. “Then you can go make yourself another cup.” 

“You aren’t very nice,” he grumbled, picking up the tea and taking a sip, making a disgusted face the whole time. “I have something to tell you,” he paused. “You aren’t going to like it.” 

“What?” I asked hesitantly. 

“I’m not going to the gala tomorrow.”

“The fuck you mean you’re not going?” 

“I can’t.” He frowned, “I’m too sick.” 

“No you’re not.” I shook my head, “Keep drinking that tea and you’ll be better by tomorrow!” 

“Louis,” he sighed. “I know you don’t want to go alone, but I really can’t go. I’ll die.”

“You won’t die.”

“I’ll fucking die.” 

“Niall,” I whined. “Please don’t make me go alone.” 

“I’m sorry, cupcake,” he sighed. “I’d much rather go to the gala than to be sick, but sometimes we can’t have it all.” 

“The fuck we can’t,” I huffed. 

“Baby-cakes….” 

“Don’t.” I glared. 

“Sweetums….” 

“Shut it,” I pouted, crossing my arms over my chest. I didn’t want to go to this damn event in the first place, but our office spent a lot of money making preparations for it and _strongly advised_ us all to attend. Knowing that I would at least have Niall there made the idea _tolerable_ , but going alone was going to be bloody awful. 

Niall sneezed loudly, then looked over to me with expectant eyes. “You aren’t even gonna bless me?” 

“Nope.” 

“Rude,” he glared. The room fell silent as I stared down at my tea cup, held tightly between both hands, until Niall finally spoke up again. “I have an idea!” 

“Yeah?” I asked, unamused. 

“Take Harry with you.” 

“Piss off,” I groaned, bringing the mug up to my lips and taking a long sip. 

“Eat me,” he glared. “Seriously. Ask Harry to go with you… blame it on me. Tell ‘em you have to bring somebody. It’s the perfect night for--” _cough_ “--romance.” 

“Niall,” I shook my head, “why… I mean, he wouldn’t even do it.” 

“Why not?” 

“Because.” 

“Because why?” 

“Just because.” 

“Look, Lou, I love you,” he coughed. “I really do, but… I’m not _well_ enough to argue with you right now. So while I love our little banter,” he sighed. “Just… do it or don’t do it. Either way, I’m not going tomorrow.” 

I nodded, avoiding his eyes, and thought about it for a moment. While I would obviously love to spend an evening with Harry, I knew I would never be brave enough to ask. Same way I’ve waited for him to text me first all week, instead of the other way around. It’s just how I operated. I was knocked out of my thoughts when Niall tapped my knee with his balled up fist, letting it rest there after he got my attention. 

“Thanks for the tea, buttercup.” 

I nodded again, “Go back to sleep.” I stood from his bed, grabbed the edges of his duvet and pulled it up further on him. I picked up his empty bowl and cradled it into my arm. I rustled his hair, which probably hadn’t even been washed in a few days, before smiling and leaving the room. I stood in the hallway, my hand trailing on the doorknob, biting the inside of my cheek in thought. 

Before I could talk myself out of it, I turned and quickly walked towards the front door, pausing only to set Niall’s empty bowl and my tea cup down. I took the few steps across the hall, scrunching my toes together from the cold of the cement, then took a deep breath and knocked on his door. I shifted my weight from one foot to the next, listening for any signs of life from the other side.

The door opened and a grin spread across Harry’s face. 

“Hey, what’re you doing here?” he asked casually, taking a step back to allow me into the flat. 

“Mmm… just, uh, thought I’d pop by for a sec.” I watched as he closed the door, pulling the sleeves of his cableknit sweater down further around his fists. 

“Still no shoes, huh?” He laughed, nodding towards my barefeet. 

“Still don’t like shoes,” I chuckled. I watched as he slid around me and plopped back down on the sofa, gesturing with his hand for me to sit down. I shook my head, waving off that I was fine where I was and he shrugged in return. “I, um… well, remember that time that I did that really awesome favor for you? And you said that if I helped you put that damn desk together that you’d do _anything_ I wanted in return…”

“Considering that was ‘bout a week ago, yeah,” he laughed. “Though I must say, you weren’t much help.” 

“Piss off,” I laughed. 

There was a moment of silence between us and he raised a questioning eyebrow. “Go on, then.” 

“Well…” I paused, wringing my hands together in front of me, standing directly in front of where he was sitting. “You see… there’s this event that my office throws, like, a Christmas party...thing. Except, you know, they can’t _call_ it a Christmas party because then somebody would be offended and probably call-- not the point. The point is, is that I have to go to this bloody thing tomorrow night and I was supposed to go with _Niall_ of course, but he’s sick, so he can’t go!” I noticed that I was speaking so fast that my words were starting to blend together, so I paused a second to let everything I said sink in with him. 

“And he didn’t tell me until _just now_ that he wasn’t going, which leaves me basically _no time at all_ to find someone _willing_ to go to this thing with me! But I already had my suit sent to the dry cleaners, which I would have never done had I known I wasn’t going to go, and if that doesn’t say _commitment_ then I really don’t know what does!” I threw my hands up in the air. “And more than that, my bosses are already expecting me to be there! It looks horrible if I don’t go, especially because I told them _today_ that I would be there!” 

He blinked a few times but didn’t say anything. 

“But I can’t exactly show up alone either, because everybody that’s going will have somebody there to entertain them! And keep them from drinking too much alcohol! Or punching someone, like Barnes, in the face!” I continued, gesturing with my hands as the words flew out of my mouth at top speed. “So because now I’ve suddenly, at the last moment, lost that _someone_ to keep me grounded and out of jail, probably out of a job too, though I don’t think with the--” I cut myself off when I realized I was heading off track again. 

Harry grinned. 

I knew I wasn’t making sense anymore. 

“It’s at a really nice hotel!” I offered. “And-- and the company paid to have a _limo_ pick up all of the guests! A fucking limo, mate!” I exclaimed, raising both of my eyebrows at him as if that would seal the deal. “I don’t know about you, but I haven’t been in a limo since my Mum got remarried and even then, it wasn’t like I could _enjoy_ it like I could enjoy it now! Back then I was just a bitter little twat who--” I stopped myself. His grin had turned into a toothy smile somewhere along the way, but he still sat there without making a peep. “There will be free food… and free drinks! And,” I sighed. “I… _really_ need someone to go with me.” 

The smile still plastered on his face, he continued to stare at me. 

In a small voice, I continued.“Because I… simply _can’t_ go by myself.”

The room fell silent. 

When the next thought crossed my mind, I pointed at him and said: “And you owe me!” 

“Oh, I do?” He laughed. 

“Yes! I helped you! With the desk!” I cried, frowning deeply at him. When the room fell silent I noticed how hard I had been breathing, practically panting. Maybe it was from nerves, or maybe it was from my rant I had just finished. Either way, my breathing was awkwardly loud in the silence of his living room. “Look, I know it’s probably… weird that I’m asking you, especially so last minute, and… you know what-- don’t worry about it. I-- I shouldn’t have asked you. It _is_ weird that I asked you. Just for--”

“Lou!” he laughed, cutting me off. 

Lou? 

We’re on a nickname basis now? 

I popped my mouth shut. 

“I was waiting for you to take a breath!” 

“Oh,” I said, blinking a few times at him. 

“You really know how to work yourself up, don’t ya?”

“Yeah… I guess so,” I trailed off, awkwardly stuffing my hands inside my jumper pocket. 

He laughed again, shaking his head as he stood up. “I just have one question.” 

“What’s that?” I asked hesitantly, scared of what he was about to say. 

“Do I have to wear a tux?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me just say, the amount of love I got on the last chapter is _OVERWHELMING!!!_ I love you all so much and I'm _so_ glad you're enjoying this story so far! I'm having a blast writing it! I'm addicted to writing for it actually... it's kind of taken over my life right now! I secretly write for it at work... then come home and stay up _far too late_ writing into the night! Which then, of course, makes me a miserable little bitch the next day. But, the fact that you guys are liking it and giving me so many amazing comments/feedback/whateveryouwannacallthem makes it SO WORTH IT. 
> 
> All that nonsense aside, I _really do_ appreciate every single one of you! **ESPECIALLY, these lovely folks who took time out of their hectic lives to brighten my day a little: Larrydirectionmcfiled (x2), LouisLoves (ALSO x2), Emily (Girrrrrrrrl, I give you THREE shoutouts. SHOUTOUT.) Entice (x2) and the wonderful Delilahh!** Y'all make me fangirl everytime you comment something. Seriously. Ask my roommate/biffle/wife/whateveryouwannacallher, Boyo. She has to deal with my fangirling about y'all. So, you know. Keep em coming so I can make her life miserable.
> 
> ALSO, the next chapter is my _baby._ It is one of three chapters that I really, _really_ wanted to write when I was planning this whole story out. It's a keeper. Look forward to that. **I will be updating with that chapter on SATURDAY.** Okay. I'm wrapping this shit up. This is becoming longer than the chapter. BYYYEEEE.


	8. Tommy-Boy

“Louuuuuuieeeeee,” Niall whined. 

I stood in front of the washroom mirror, tugging at the bottom of my suit jacket, turning one way then to the other, examining every inch of my reflection. I hadn’t worn a proper suit since my Mum’s wedding, which was almost six years ago now, and knowing that Harry was attending the gala with me only added on pressure to look my best. Finally nodding to myself, knowing this was as good as it was going to get, I turned and opened the door to my bedroom. 

Niall sat on my bed, hunched over and bundled up in a thick jumper. He looked up when he heard the door open, and through groggy-sick eyes he looked me up and down. He lifted his hand and twirled his finger, signaling me to spin around; I rolled my eyes before doing so. I held my arms out as I spun in a slow circle, finally speaking when I was facing Niall again. “So? Whatcha think?” 

“Not bad, Tommo.” Niall grinned, “Not bad at all.” I let a long breath of air leave my lungs, not even realizing that I had been holding it in, before I stepped in front of the floor length mirror and began fidgeting with my cuff links. “Can I go back to bed now?” Niall groaned, sniffling obnoxiously loud and then wiping his nose with the sleeve of his jumper. 

“Not yet,” I replied, shaking my shoulders out and staring at my reflection. 

“You look brilliant, baby-cakes,” he coughed. “You don’t need me to tell you that.”

“Yes I do.” I looked at him through the mirror. 

“Fucking stunning,” he yawned. “Fucking… breathtaking.” 

“I really don’t need your sarcasm right now,” I said dryly, continuing to glare at him. 

“Your hair though… is not so stunning.”

“My hair!” My eyes widened, realizing I only had a few minutes to do it. “Shit, shit, shit!” 

Niall groaned loudly, laying back onto my bed as I hurried into the toilet. Pulling open one of the drawers and grabbing the bottle of hair product, I squeezed a small amount into my palms before rubbing them together. I ran my fingers through my hair a few times, focusing mainly on my fringe, then ran my hands under the tap to wash them off. I angled my face to the left, then to the right, making sure that there was no flyaways in the back. 

“Good?” I asked, stepping back into my room a few minutes later. “Niall?” I called. He had laid on his back, his legs dangling off the edge of my bed, and it took me a second to realize he was sleeping. “Niall!” I exclaimed, grabbing hold of his knee and giving it a good shake. 

“I’m up, I’m up!” he declared, sitting up straight, then pinching his eyes shut as the room most likely was spinning. “Jesus Christ,” he coughed. 

“Is it okay?” I asked, pointing to my hair. 

“I’d fuck ya.” 

I gave him a stale expression, “Can you be serious for two seconds?” 

“Louuuuuieeee,” he whined again, stomping his feet in a pathetic attempt at a tantrum. Frowning deeply and crossing his arms over his chest, he continued. “I’m _sick._ And you’re driving me _crazy!_ ” 

“Tough shit,” I shrugged. “As soon as I leave you can go back to sleep.” 

“You’re the most stupid, annoying...cocksucking…” he paused, searching for more insults. “ _Ignorant_ little piece of shit I know,” he grumbled. “You’re fuckin’ gorgeous and if you make me tell you one more time,” he held his pointer finger up. “I’m going to tell you _all the things_ I hate about you instead.” 

I laughed, smiled brightly at him before saying, “You love everything about me.” 

“False. Real fucking false.” 

I rolled my eyes, grabbing a pair of dress shoes from my closet and sitting next to Niall to put them on. “I hate that you snore,” he began, counting off on his hands. “I hate that you leave time on the microwave. I hate that you never sneeze _just once_ , you always got ta’ sneeze, like, fifteen damn-motherfucking-shitting times in a row!” He glared at me as I cackled loudly, leaning over to lace up my shoes.

“I hate that you can’t cuss properly when you’re sick,” I added. 

“Shut it! This is my thing,” he said, slapping my shoulder harshly. “I hate that you follow me around the flat, turning lights off behind me.” 

“Well, you leave lights on,” I laughed. “One of us has to save money.” 

“I hate that you’re a _cheap bastard_ who worries about goddamn _lights!_ ” he exclaimed, pointing his finger at me and glaring. I raised an eyebrow at him and he sighed, softening his expression and giving off a loud snuffle before wiping his nose once more. “See. There’s lots of things I hate about you.” 

I glanced over my shoulder, still chuckling quietly at him. I watched as he laid over on his side, curling up into a ball and coughing loudly. “I hate that you’re coughing all over me pillows,” I countered. Then, just to spite me, he made a show of nuzzling his dripping nose deep into my pillow. 

“I hate that you won’t let me go to sleep.” 

I rolled my eyes. 

“Go to sleep,” I said, standing from the bed and shaking out my jacket once more. 

“Mm’too tired to move now. You exhaust me,” he said, digging his feet under my duvet before pulling it up around his shoulders. Just then, a knock on the front door echoed loudly through the flat. 

“Shit, that’s Harry-- I got to go.” 

“Go, go,” he waved me off with closed eyes. 

“You going to be alright?” 

“Mhmm,” he hummed, sniffling and scrunching his nose up. 

I grabbed my wallet and keys from the bedside table, pausing to press a sloppy kiss to the side of Niall’s temple. (Which he groaned loudly about, swatting at me blindly.) I headed towards the front door, my pulse loud in my ear drums, taking a deep breath before opening it. Harry smiled widely at me and I took a second to glance at him up and down. 

His suit was black and fitted perfectly for him, the vest underneath his suit jacket was a light gray, white button up beneath, and a black bowtie was around his neck. His normal loose, curly hair was pushed up and back, and for a moment I wondered why he didn’t always wear his hair that way. “Am I fancy enough?” He laughed, holding his arms out for me to see. 

“Definitely.” I grinned, patting down my pockets to make sure I had everything before stepping out of the flat. I wanted to tell Harry how _amazing_ he looked. Actually, with the way that suit fit him, I wanted to skip the gala all together and take this party straight to his bedroom. But knowing I could never say something like that to him, especially since we were just going to this thing together _platonically_ , I left it at that. 

“Nice to see you decided to wear shoes this time.” He smiled brightly at me. 

“I’m not an animal,” I rolled my eyes, turning around to lock the door before slipping my keys into my pocket. 

“I saw the limo pull up a few minutes ago,” Harry said, turning towards the stairs. “I can’t believe they _actually sent_ a limo,” he laughed, looking over at me. 

“Yeah,” I chuckled, agreeing with him as we turned the next corner. “It’s pretty ridiculous, innit?” We rounded the last flight of stairs and right in front of the building was the black limousine, the driver standing outside facing us. 

“Mr. Tomlinson?” He asked. 

“That would be me,” I nodded. 

He opened the door and I slipped inside, Harry following closely behind me, before he shut the door and headed around to the drivers seat. I glanced around at my surroundings, whistling at how fancy it was as I sat back in my seat. I glanced over at Harry as he looked around, a grin plastered to his face, but he looked like he was searching for something. 

“Whatcha lookin’ for?” I asked. 

“My cheese pizza.” 

“Pardon?” I asked, raising my eyebrows at him in confusion. 

He laughed, shaking his head. “You ever see Home Alone 2?” 

“Um,” I paused, chuckling quietly. “Of course.” 

“Remember that scene when the kid gets the limo? Because that hotel guy had walked in on him in the shower or summit?” He grinned at me. I nodded and he continued. “They had a cheese pizza waiting for him when he got inside the limo, to like apologize for, you know, seein’ him all naked and whatnot.” 

“Ah, right,” I nodded, trying to contain my smile.

“And he drank coke out of a champagne glass.”

“You are quite the movie buff.” 

“What can I say?” He laughed, “I like movies.”  
  


* * *

  
Harry and I stood outside of the hotel, both of us staring up at the tall building in front of us. I tilted my head towards him, watching as he stared up at the building with raised eyebrows. I smiled a little before asking, “You ready?” 

“I guess so.” He let out a breathy chuckle, “Are you?” He asked, tilting his head towards me. 

“No.” I shook my head, amusement in my tone.

Without saying anything else, we both headed up the red-carpeted stairs and through the opened doors of the lobby. One of the employees of the hotel asked us if we were there for the Homelle & Dean gala, then he directed us down a different hallway. We walked in silence towards the entrance of the ballroom, then paused outside the doors. 

“Are we heading into the lions den?” Harry asked, looking over at me with raised eyebrows. 

“Mmm… summin’ like it,” I laughed. 

Once inside, it was apparent that Homelle & Dean really _outdid_ themselves this year. There were large, round tables set up around the outside of the room, with stark white table cloths and gigantic centerpieces on them. In the middle of the room was a dance floor, and at the other end of the room was a stage with a live band playing. The walls had giant black and silver drapes hanging on them in bunches, and in order to enter the room we had to walk under a gigantic balloon archway. 

There was at least a hundred people here already, all dressed to the nines and talking loudly with one another. Waiters in tuxedos with white towels draped over their arms weaved in and out of the crowd, holding silver trays with either champagne flutes on them or tiny little hors d'oeuvres. The band was already playing in the background, and one of them was currently going all Kenny G on us with a saxophone. 

As if reading my mind, Harry leaned in close and mumbled in my ear. “What’s with Kenny G?” 

I covered my mouth with my hand, stopping myself from laughing obnoxiously loud. “That’s what I was just thinking!” I laughed, my hand hovering in front of my lips. He smiled at me, leaning away from my ear and I looked around for the seating chart. Nodding my head at Harry to follow me, we made our way over to the giant table that was set up in the corner as I looked for my card. 

“Ah, here you go, Mr. Niall Horan.” I grinned, picking up the card and handing it to Harry. 

“Why thank you,” he laughed, bowing slightly. “Rich people bow, don’t they?” He asked, quirking an eyebrow at me. 

“Fuck if I know,” I shrugged, snatching up the card with my name on it. “Where the hell is table nine at?” 

“Errmm…” Harry paused, craning his neck to look around the room. “Don’t suppose they go in any sort of order, huh?”

“That would be entirely too simple,” I laughed, scanning the room with my eyes, looking at some familiar faces, mixed in with a bunch of people I had never seen before. I grimaced when I spotted Barnes chatting with a crowd of people, drink in one hand and gesturing wildly with the other. I leaned in closer to Harry to speak lowly in his ear.“You see that man over there,” I nodded to my left, “in the pinstripe suit and the fucking-ugly face?” 

Harry laughed loudly, before quickly wiping the grin of his face and nodding once, his lip twitching from trying to keep a blank expression. 

“ _That_ is Greg Barnes.” 

“Oooohhhh.” His lip twitched again, “our arch enemy.” 

_Our._

“Yup,” I nodded. “And do you see that woman over there,” I nodded in the other direction. “In the red dress that’s three sizes too small?” 

“Mhmm,” he nodded, biting his bottom lip. 

“ _That_ is Jillian McNarry,” I said, pulling my head back a little to look at Harry’s face. “She was caught on her knees in the breakroom one day,” I raised a suggestive eyebrow. 

“With _who?_ ” He gasped, smirking widely and going along with my bit. 

“Thomas Fischer.” 

“No!” He declared, eyes wide with amusement.“Not my Tommy-boy!” 

“Yes! Tommy!” I cackled, knowing that Harry had no idea who Thomas was. I brought my hand back up to my mouth to contain my laughter. “Apparently it was going on for _weeks_! They would sneak off to different rooms in our office and go to shag-town, right there where anyone could see!” 

“The fax machine was never the same!” he cried out. 

“Exactly!” I bit my lip to hide my grin. “But the best part,” I continued, waving politely to one of my co-workers before cupping my hand in front of my mouth to finish my sentence. “Was that _Sarah Moster_ is the one who found them!” Harry gasped again. “ _Tommy’s wife’s best mate!”_

“Plot twist!” Harry’s eyes widened. 

“It was _quite_ the scandal.” I grinned at him, his eyes locked on mine. 

“What else?” He grinned, looking around the room. “I want to know _all_ the drama.” 

As we made our way around the room, trying to locate table nine, I told him about different office drama that had happened this year. Finally we found our table, located in one of the far corners of the room, and there was already three guests seated. Each table sat about ten, and I was inwardly pleading with whatever God was listening that Barnes wouldn’t be one of them. 

“Charles, Ryan,” I greeted the two men at our table. “Veronica, how are you, my darling?” I smiled, leaning over and kissing her cheek in greeting. “This is my, um… my-- this is Harry Styles,” I fumbled out an introduction, awkwardly avoiding their eyes afterwards, my cheeks on fire. I waited until Harry had shook hands with the three before taking a seat.

My cheeks still heated, I picked up my water glass and took a long sip. 

“Looks like you need something stronger than that.” Harry raised an eyebrow at me. 

“Yeah,” I chuckled, setting the glass back down, avoiding his gaze. 

“I’m gonna go find the bar,” he said. “Would would you like?” 

“Something strong. Double. Triple, even.” 

“Got it,” he laughed, standing from the table and heading towards the bar. 

While Harry was gone, the four of us made polite conversation, talking about work and projects that were due soon. I typically stuck to myself a lot at work, never quite feeling like I fit in because of the age gap between me and everyone else. (Except Niall, of course.) When Harry returned a few minutes later, two martinis in hand, I was relieved to have somebody else to talk to. 

“I told ‘em to make it _really_ strong,” he said, sitting the glass down in front of me. “I’m pretty sure it’s _all_ vodka.” 

“Brilliant!” I grinned, picking up the glass and drinking most of it in one gulp. My throat burned and I grimaced a little, but I would have drank anything at this point. There was no way I was going to be able to get through this evening sober. With his glass hovering next to his lips, not having even taken a sip yet, he grinned wildly at me. I gave off a small shrug, having no remorse, and he chuckled a bit before taking a sip of his own drink. 

Other guests continued to arrive, and by the time the salad was served, we were already three drinks in. The tuxedo clad waiters set our plates down in front of us and I glanced at Harry out of the corner of my eye, watching as he smiled politely at his waiter. He leaned closed to me, muttering quietly in my ear so that nobody else could hear. “I half expected them to serve us caviar and escargot.” 

“Me too,” I whispered back, smirking before picking up my salad fork. 

I pushed the cherry-tomatoes off to the side of my plate before glancing back over at Harry, feeling his eyes already on me. We made eye contact for a second; he raised his eyebrows and I nodded, answering his unspoken question with a grin. We pushed our plates closer together, causing them to make a loud clinking sound as they collided. I looked up, my eyes darting around the table to see if anybody noticed. Using my fork, I rolled the tomatoes off of my plate and onto Harry’s, looking around suspiciously as if we were breaking the rules. Meanwhile, he scooped up the onion slices and dumped them on top of my salad. We casually scooted our plates back to their original spots, then cast a sideways smirk at each other.

Once dinner was over, and a few more trips to the bar had happened, everyone turned their attention to the stage. One of the main events for tonight’s gala was the award ceremony that they had planned. Benjamin Homelle, one of the CEOs , took to the stage and started addressing the whole crowd. The room fell silent as we all listened, until Harry leaned over and whispered in my ear. “Will you win an award?”

“No way,” I chuckled, whispering back. Harry grinned, sitting back upright and looking forward.

Out of the corner of my eye I watched as he picked up his glass, downing the last bit before setting it back down. I had already lost track of how many drinks we had burned through, but I knew that I’ve had enough to get me a bit more relaxed. My suit was no longer uncomfortable and my tie didn’t feel too tight anymore, my head fuzzy and warm from the amount of alcohol I had already consumed. 

Benjamin Homelle continued on, telling us all about the first award that he was giving out. Technically it was called the “Greatest Asset” award, but what it really should have been called was “Greatest Ass _kisser_ ” award. I smiled politely anyway though, going through the motions and sneaking peeks of Harry whenever I thought he wasn’t looking. 

“Without further adieu,” Benjamin announced, “the award goes to Gregory Barnes!” 

I plastered a fake smile to my face, clapping along with everyone else as Barnes stood and made his way to the stage. Still clapping, Harry leaned over and whispered, “what a wanker.” I laughed loudly, which was thankfully drowned out from everyone's cheering, slapping Harry's arm as I grinned at him. 

A few more martinis later, I was feeling significantly drunk and more ready than ever to leave. I glanced over at Harry, who had a polite smile on his face, and I studied his profile for a few moments until he caught me staring. 

“What?” He smirked. 

“Nothing,” I shook my head. “Are you bored to death?” 

“Ehhh…” he trailed off, cracking a grin and shrugging. He picked up his glass and drank the rest in one go, setting the glass down and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Another round?” He asked, eyebrows raised. 

“Absolutely,” I laughed, scooting my chair back and standing up. I wobbled a bit, which Harry had definitely caught, because when we made eye contact again he laughed loudly, imitating my wobble before standing up straight again. I narrowed my eyes at him though was only able to hold it for a second before I cracked another smile. 

We made our way towards the bar, weaving in and out of the crowd. I stumbled a bit too far and bumped into the back of an older woman who had been dancing, quickling muttering an apology before turning back towards Harry. We both burst out laughing as we shuffled away from them, walking closely together until we finally reached our destination.

While we were waiting in the queue, the man in front of us turned, who I instantly recognized as Thomas from earlier in the evening. Holding an empty drink in his hand, he turned to face us fully before reaching out to shake my hand. “Tomlinson, how are you?” he asked politely. 

“Good, good,” I nodded, shaking his hand. “This is--”

“Tommy!” Harry cried, clearly remembering our conversation from earlier. “Tommy-boy! How are you, buddy?!” Harry took Thomas’s extended hand and pulled him into a half-hug, clapping his shoulder before pulling away from him. My eyes were the size of saucers, not believing the situation I was watching. 

“Umm--” Thomas paused, “good, mate. How’ve you been?” 

I bit down on my bottom lip harshly, trying to stop myself from cracking up as Thomas dumbly played along, not realizing that he had never met Harry before. My eyes still wide, I stared at the side of Harry’s face, knowing he could feel my gaze on him. His lip twitched, trying not to break character, keeping his eyes focused on Thomas. 

“I’ve been fantastic!” Harry exclaimed, “how’s the wife?” 

_No._

I turned my head over my shoulder, my eyes squeezed shut as I tried desperately not to crack up laughing. Harry elbowed my side, causing me to let out a breath of laughter, and I turned my back on them completely, slapping a hand over my mouth. Harry reached over and pinched the back of my arm, causing me to let out another loud cackle, unable to stop myself. 

“Sorry bout this one,” I heard Harry say to Thomas. “Can’t hold his liqour.” 

That did it. 

I cackled loudly, doubling over and clenching my sides, my eyes closed tightly shut as the laughter roared through me. I stood up straighter, though laughing just as hard, as Harry tried to keep it together. He stuttered out a “Nice to see you again, Tommy!” before stepping behind me and pushing my back, causing me to stumble forward as he ushered me away from the bar. 

“You’re fucking insane!” I laughed loudly. He was still behind me, hands on my shoulders as we pushed through the crowd, away from the bar.

“You were supposed to go along with it!” Harry cackled, and I could feel his breath on the back of my neck. “But you couldn’t keep it together!” 

“You called him,” I sucked in a deep breath, my eyes watering from laughing so hard,“Tommy-boy!” I stopped abruptly in my tracks, causing Harry to run straight into my back before he stumbled back a few steps, as we came face to face with Barnes. His hands still on my shoulders, I felt him peer around me to see why I had stopped.

“Tomlinson.” 

“Barnes.” 

“Who’s your boyfriend?” 

“What? He’s-- He’s not-- No--”

“Harry Styles,” Harry interrupted, moving his right arm around me in a gesture to shake Barnes’ hand. I bit the inside of my cheek, the hand that Harry had on my shoulder like fire to my skin, watching as they briefly shook hands. “And you are…?” 

“Greg Barnes.” 

“Congrats on your award,” Harry said dryly. “I’m sure your Mum is very proud,” he said with a condescending tone and a fake smile. 

I elbowed Harry in the ribs. 

“Well, that’s what happens when you’re dedicated and work hard for your company. Something you know little about, aye Tomlinson?” 

“You know what, Barnes?” I raised a drunk eyebrow. “I think you should fuck right off.” 

“Typical,” Barnes huffed, rolling his eyes. 

“No, what’s _typical_ is that a no good, ass-kissing, overachieving motherfucker like you would--”

“We were just leaving!” Harry exclaimed, cutting me off and stepping to the side, sliding the hand that had been on my left shoulder across my back til his arm was draped over me. “Really nice to meet you, mate. Good luck on...everything,” Harry rushed out, turning me around and dragging me away from Barnes. 

“ _Fuck that_!” I glared at Harry, “you shoulda just let me go off on that dickhead!” 

“No,” Harry laughed. “You would regret it tomorrow.”

“The fuck I would! There is nothing that would bring me _more pleasure_ than to once and for all being able to tell Barnes that he is a _shit eating_ , big headed mother fu-- ” I cut myself off when we ran straight into Benjamin Homelle’s path. I snapped my mouth shut, standing up straight as Harry removed the arm that had been over my shoulders. “Mr. Homelle, sir,” I nodded. “How are you?” 

“Great!” Benjamin smiled, reaching out to shake my hand. He turned towards Harry, offering his hand out and introducing himself. “Are you lads enjoying yourself?” 

“Yes, very much so,” I nodded, smiling brightly at him, trying not to sway from the alcohol. 

“Yes,” Harry agreed. “Fantastic party!” 

“Brilliant!” Benjamin smiled, shaking my hand once more before excusing himself. 

As soon as he was out of sight, I grabbed Harry’s arm and took off in a run. We laughed loudly, crashing into each other as we ran through the crowd, dipping in between couples and the different tables set up. I wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol in my system, or the adrenalin that was coming from the hilarity of it all, but it was like my legs were moving for me the faster we ran. Before we knew it we had found one of the exits and were in the alley behind the hotel. 

We came to a halt, separating from each other as we attempted to catch our breath. I leaned forward, my hands on my thighs as I breathed heavily, laughter still coming from my lungs. From his spot a few feet away, Harry said in between breaths of air: “You should--” _gasp_ “--have seen your--” _gasp_ “face!” Harry laughed, gripping his sides tightly as he bent forward, his cackles echoing in the alleyway. 

“I couldn’t stay in there any longer!” I choked out, standing up right and wiping my cheeks with my sleeve.

“When we ran into your boss,” Harry paused to laugh harder, “you looked like you saw a ghost!” 

“I didn’t want to act like a proper drunk in front of him!” I defended. 

That only made him cackle louder. He had his palm flat against the brick wall, his head dipped low beneath it, choking on his own laughter. “I imagine that’s how the conversation went with your parents when you would stumble home drunk as a teenager,” he grinned wildly at me. “Yes, Mr. Homelle sir, yes. Quite! Brilliant!” He mocked in a posh accent before doubling over. 

“Fuck off,” I laughed, smiling as I watched him stand up straight again. “I didn’t sound like that!”

He brought his hand up to his face to wipe his tears of laughter, sniffling and shaking his head. “I don’t remember the last time I laughed this hard,” he said, his eyes lifting to meet mine. 

“Me either,” I chuckled. 

“We ran outta there like we stole something!” 

“There was no other option!” I cackled, “I saw an escape plan and ran with it. Literally.” 

“You won’t get in trouble for leaving early?” 

“Early?!” I cried, “it’s past midnight!” I exclaimed, letting a puff of air leave my lungs. “I made my appearance. Everyone knows I was there!” 

“Even your boss,” he grinned. 

“Ugh,” I groaned, “don’t remind me!” 

We stayed in the alley for a few more minutes, composing ourselves fully before I looked towards both ends, trying to figure out which way to go. “You ‘spose our limo is still waiting?” I quirked an eyebrow. 

“I don’t know,” he chuckled. “Don’t ‘spose they’d pick us up in this alley, huh?” 

“‘Spose not.” I grinned, our eyes locked. “We could get a cab?” 

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Can we just, like, walk for a bit? I don’t think I can sit in a cab right now,” he laughed. “I’m too wired!” I nodded, pointing over my shoulder with my thumb, indicating which way I thought we should go. We began walking towards the street, a smile plastered to my face from all of tonight’s events. Tonight had turned out far better than I imagined it would have. 

I watched out of the corner of my eye as Harry struggled with his bowtie for a moment before tearing it off. “Fucking hell, I can breathe again!” He laughed, slipping the bowtie in his pocket as we walked. He unbuttoned the top of his button up, then did the same with his cufflinks. I tried to burn the image into my brain, never wanting to forget how amazing he had looked tonight.

We walked in silence for a few minutes, the normal busy streets now deserted at this hour. The air was cold, causing clouds to form around our breath, but the alcohol helped keep us warm for now. “Thanks for coming with me tonight,” I glanced over at him again. “I’m sure this isn’t how you planned your Saturday night to go.” 

“It was fun,” he grinned. “Well, watching you make a fool out of yourself was, at least.” 

“Hey!” I laughed, giving his shoulder a shove. 

“I can’t believe you work with those wankers,” he chuckled. “They’re all so stuck up.” 

“I know,” I groaned. “It’s horrible.” 

“Barnes is a right twat.” 

“Yeah…” I trailed off, “sorry about-- you know, him calling you my, um, boyfriend.” 

“It’s okay,” he waved it off. “That guy’s a dick. I don’t care what he thinks.” 

I nodded, crossing my arms over my chest and staring down at the pavement as we walked. I let his words sink in; I was afraid that after Barnes had called him my boyfriend that he would be weirded out, realizing that Barnes hadn’t said it as a joke, but as an assumption. Considering most everyone came with their spouse, or with a date, I can only assume that everyone considered Harry to be my boyfriend. Obviously that didn’t bother me at all, but I hadn’t thought that through when I originally asked Harry to go with me. The last thing I wanted to do was to scare Harry off, or make him think I was trying to _trick_ him into being my boyfriend. 

“Can I ask you a question?” He asked a moment later. 

“Sure.”

“It’s kind of, you know, personal.” My heart rate sped up but I nodded all the same, my arms still crossed and looking down at the pavement as we walked. “Are people… you know, like, accepting? At your work, I mean.” 

“Like…” I trailed off, “because I’m… gay?” 

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Like, I know Barnes is just a dick-- you’ve told me that. I just, you know, was wondering if anybody else was, like, demeaning to you.” He spoke slowly, stumbling with his words as he tiptoed around the subject. 

“Not really,” I shrugged. “Not to my face at least.” 

“That’s good.” 

“Why do you ask?” I looked over at him.

“I guess... I wanted to know before we got too far from the hotel, incase I was gonna have to go back and kick someones arse.” He turned his head and smirked at me. I returned his smile before looking back down to the pavement, my cheeks heating up again. There was a moment of silence before he continued. “Just… after meeting all those dicks that you work with, I guess I just wanted to make sure that you weren't, like, you know.” 

“Bullied?” I laughed. 

“Summin’ like that.” 

“They all kinda just, like, leave me alone,” I shrugged. “This is the most I’ve talked to them since last year’s Christmas party,” I chuckled quietly. “Barnes is a dick because he’s bitter,” I tried to explain. “He’s mad that Niall and I are both so young but have, like, the same job as him? There’s really only so many things he can say to me, because he doesn’t know me at all. So of course he’s going to make gay jokes every once in a while,” I shrugged again. “But I don’t give a fuck about anything he says.” 

“It doesn’t bother you at all?” 

“No.”

“Never?” 

“Not really,” I glanced over at him again. “It is what it is.” 

We ended up never getting that cab we had talked about. The hotel hadn’t been that far from our complex in the first place, so it only took us about an hour to get back home with our slow, walking pace. We had talked a bit more about Barnes, but once I had convinced Harry that I really _didn’t care_ what he said to me, the conversation had dropped and we started up a new one. 

“Not exactly the best walkin’ shoes, yeah?” I nodded towards my feet.

Harry took a moment to look down at his own before grinning at me. “Yeah, my toes feel like they’re going to fall off.” 

“You should have said something,” I laughed as we headed up the first flight of stairs. “We could have taken that cab.” 

“ _You_ should have said something.” 

“I did!” 

“Back at the hotel!” he laughed. “You didn’t say anything about your feet hurting the whole way home.” 

“Whatever,” I grinned. 

When we made it to our floor, we paused outside in the hallway. My flat to the left, Harry’s to the right. I glanced at my door for a moment before turning towards Harry, watching as he stuffed his hands inside his trouser pockets and stared down at the ground. I leaned my back against the brick wall, propping my heel against it so my knee was bent. 

“I feel like, after tonight… _you owe me_ again,” Harry finally spoke up, looking up to meet my eyes. 

“The fuck I do,” I teased, “remember that you were _paying off your debt_ to me.” 

“My debt?!” He exclaimed, amusement shown in his green eyes. “ _You_ ,” he pointed, “helped me put a desk together for about an hour. A desk that I ended up putting together myself!” he laughed loudly. “ _I_ just spent my entire Saturday night at some fancy-fuck party, wearing a damn _suit_ the whole time!” He gestured wildly with his arms, his tone clearly showing his amusement.

“Fine,” I said, rolling my eyes. “I owe you.” 

“That’s right,” he nodded, a victorious smile across his face. “And I plan to collect.” 

He took a step forward, propping his arm up on the wall next to me, his palm a few inches from the side of my face, boxing me in. My breath caught in my throat as his body was inching closer to mine. From the short distance between us, I could still smell the vodka on his breath. I slid my heel down the wall, allowing him space to step closer to me. 

He was going to kiss me. 

My heart raced, my pulse thumping loudly in my ear drums, my eyes locked on his as he stared me down. His eyes flicked from mine, down to my mouth, then back up. I ran my tongue along my bottom lip, inhaling deeply through my nose as I waited for him to move. There was a moment of silence, just us breathing each other in, before he flicked his eyes down again.

He met my eyes again and parted his lips, I think to say something, but a noise from the other end of the hallway caused us both to snap our heads in the direction of the sound. One of the tenants, who lived a few flats down, was walking up the stairs on the opposite end of the building. I turned my head back to Harry and watched as he slowly closed his mouth shut, looking into my eyes for another quick moment before stepping back, his arm falling back to his side. 

“I’ll, um, see you tomorrow?” He asked, rubbing the back of his neck as he stared down at the ground. 

“Yeah…” I trailed off. 

His eyes flashed up to meet mine one more time and I smiled weakly at him, then watched as he turned around and fumbled with the lock on his door before slipping inside. I let my head fall back onto the brick, closing my eyes tightly as I exhaled slowly. I stood there for another minute, willing my heartrate down, before robotically unlocking my flat and stepping inside. 

The flat was dark and quiet, the only sound being the hum of the refrigerator. I pushed the door closed softly until it clicked, then leaned my back against it, taking up the same position I had in the hall. My eyes closed, my head tilted back, I replayed the image that had just taken place in my mind. I knew that I should have been feeling disappointment, but instead a smile crept onto my face. 

He _wanted_ to kiss me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> =)
> 
> So?! What'd y'all think?! 
> 
> I know I said I was going to be posting on Saturday, but, ehhhhhhhhhhhhh. It's close enough. So that's my Friday treat for you guys! I hope you all enjoyed this chapter!! I love how it turned out. More than that, I hope you all have a _fantastic_ weekend! I plan on doing _absolutely nothing!_ Earlier this week the temperature was like, 1? Then yesterday it got all the way up to 25, so I mean, that shit felt like Miami compared to the beginning of the week. Y'all motherfuckers in the US feel me? It was brutal everywhere. But, even if it does feel like Miami (JK, mother nature. It's still too cold.) I'm still not doing a damn thing. Be jelly.
> 
> ANYWAY. 
> 
> I CAN'T GET OVER how AWESOME you guys are! I got so much amazing feedback and kudos and bookmarks and I just love every single one of you! It really makes me happy that you guys are as supportive as you are! **More than anything, I wanna give a HUGE FRIDAY SHOUTOUT to THESE people that made me die a little on the inside (from happiness, of course.) Sherivw (x2), Entice, DiamondD, larrydirectionmcflied (x2), Emily, LouisLoves (x2? I think x2. I'm too lazy to go back and check.) and thedeathofhyacinth!** You guys seriously don't know how _easy_ I am when it comes to comments. ANYTHING you have to say makes me smile. So. Make me smile? 
> 
> I LOVE YOU ALL. I have dinner to eat... and beer to drink... so, imma wrap this up. BYYYYYEEEEEE.


	9. Electric Avenue

When I woke up the next morning, I laid in my bed for a long time without moving. Mostly because I was hungover, but partly because I was replaying images from last night over and over in my head. I must have imaged the scene with Harry that took place outside my flat about a million times by now, coming up with different scenarios of what _might_ have happened had that _stupid_ neighbor not interrupted us and scared him off. 

He had been so close to kissing me when he had suddenly pulled away. Just knowing that made my heart flutter, my doubts on whether or not he liked me gone from my mind. I rolled over onto my back, rubbing my growling belly with my cold hands as I stared up at the ceiling, a small smile etched across my face. 

Finally deciding I needed food, I sat up and rubbed my temples when my hangover suddenly hit me again. I sat on the edge of my bed for a moment, my elbows on my knees with my head in my hands, before finally forcing myself to stand. I pulled on a pair of trackies and grabbed a tshirt from the laundry basket before leaving the room, draping the shirt over my right shoulder as I headed to Niall’s room, my barefeet padding against the floor. 

His door was already cracked, so I pushed it open and stuck my head through. He was curled up in his bed, his back facing me and I could hear his soft snores from where I stood. I took the few steps to his bed, tapping his covered feet with my hand before speaking. “Niiiiiallllll?” 

“No,” he grumbled, stirring slightly but not moving. 

“Wake up, sleepy head.” I patted his foot again, trying to get him to move his feet. Understanding what I wanted, he wordlessly tucked his legs up towards his chest, allowing me to flop out onto my stomach at the end of his bed. I crossed my bare arms over each other, resting my cheek on them as I stared at him. “I have so much to tell you.” 

“Don’t care,” he mumbled, his voice hoarse. He snuffled loudly, scrunching his nose a few times before bringing his jumper covered arm up to wipe at his face. With his eyes still closed, he tucked his arm close to his chest and exhaled slowly, his stuffed up nose whistling slightly. 

“I’ll make you breakfast if you get up,” I offered, breakfast being one of the only meals I could cook.

“No.” 

“Come onnn,” I groaned, smirking as I continued. “You know you’re hungry.”

“Mmm mmm,” he disagreed, shaking his head with his eyes still shut. 

“I’ll make you a proper fry up,” I told him, readjusting my cheek on my folded arms. The ceiling fan spun above us, causing a shiver to run up my bare back. He groaned again, burying his face into the crook of his arm. I could tell by his heavy breathing that he still wasn’t feeling well, but I felt as if I would literally explode if I didn’t tell somebody about all that happened last night. “I’ll make you tea the way you like it,” I offered in a sing song voice. “Not with lemon and honey-- though I’d still highly recommend it.” 

“Fuck off.” 

“Come on,” I sighed, sliding one of my arms across the duvet and poking at him. He cracked an eye open, barely able to be seen since his head was still buried under his elbow. I smiled brightly at him, “That’s a good boy!” 

“Shhh,” he hissed, snapping his eye closed. 

“I’ll go start your tea!” I exclaimed, pushing myself up and off his bed. “Get a move on it,” I told him, smacking his duvet-covered bum once before leaving the room, ignoring his protest. I shook my shirt out and then pulled it over my head, running my hands through my messy hair a few times until I got to the kitchen. 

I grabbed the kettle and turned on the tap, tilting my head to the side and yawning as it filled up with water. My phone sounded from the other room, the obnoxious vibrating amplifying from the glass table top. I flipped the kettle on then walked around the counter, grabbing my phone from the table and sliding it unlocked. 

_...Vodka and I aren’t speaking to each other._

I grinned, biting down on my bottom lip as I read his message. 

**Bit of a hangover?**

Just as I hit send, Niall appeared around the corner, hood up over his head and feet dragging. I smiled brightly at him, letting him know that his tea was brewing, and watched as he pulled out one of the barstools and sat down. He laid his head down on the countertop right away. I set my phone down, walking to the fridge to grab what I would need to cook breakfast. 

“What’dja want for breakfast then?” I asked, staring at the different items in the fridge. “Bacon sandwich?” 

“Sausage and eggs,” he mumbled into his folded arms. “And hash,” he added as an after thought. 

“We don’t have any potatoes,” I replied. He sighed loudly, a bit over exaggerated if you asked me. “Or sausage, actually…” I trailed off, noticing the shelf where we kept it was empty. 

“Then what the fuck did I get out of bed for?” Niall raised his head up, staring at me with heavy-lidded eyes and a sour expression.

“Because it’s almost eleven and it’s time to get up,” I shrugged, unaffected by his mood. “Now, how ‘bout that bacon sandwich?” 

“Considering it’s my only option.” He grumbled, resting his head back down on his folded arms. I smiled brightly, grabbing the bacon and eggs from the fridge and setting them next to the stove. My phone buzzed again and I picked it up as I went to grab a frying pan. 

_Summin like that… are you just as miserable?_

**Ehh...I’ll be better once I eat… making me and Niall breakfast right now.**

I replied to his message as I opened the package of bacon. I placed a few slices into the frying pan, washing my hands under the tap before turning to Niall. 

“We almost kissed.” 

His head flew up from the countertop, his eyes wide and his jaw dropped. “What?!” 

“Yes,” I nodded, not able to contain my toothy grin. “We were in the hallway,” I nodded my head towards the wall. “And we were kiiiind of drunk…” I trailed off. “But, like, it was there. It was about to happen, I know it was! But then, cat-man from 6D came bounding up the stairs and scared him off.” 

“I fucking _hate_ that wanker,” Niall hissed. 

We didn’t know much about 6D, but we knew the man had a bunch of cats. 

Hence the name. 

“Me too,” I groaned. “But I’m telling you Niall… it was like, magical. It would have been _perfect_ had fucking cat-man not walked up,” I sighed loudly. Niall nodded, resting his head back down as I picked my phone up to read Harry’s last message. 

_=( Wish someone would make me breakfast._

My thumbs hovered over the keyboard for a second, wondering if I should type out my response or not. Finally nodding to myself, decision made, I began typing. 

**Walk your lazy ass over here then!**

I read the message twice before hitting the send button. I heard the kettle boiling and it knocked me out of my thoughts. Niall’s head perked up and he watched as I prepared his tea the way he liked it, extra sugar and just a splash of milk, then welcomed it with open arms when I sat the mug down in front of him. I went back to the pan, flipping the bacon over as Niall spoke up. “So, go on, I know you’re dying to tell me about everything else.” 

I looked over my shoulder and grinned, “You should have seem him.” 

“Was he _dreamy?_ ” Niall asked in a girly voice, bringing the mug to his lips. 

“ _So_ dreamy,” I gushed, bringing my hand up to my heart in pure fangirl mode. I laughed, then began to tell Niall the events of last night as I tended to the bacon. I told him about how fancy the ballroom had been, the food (And even our tomato/onion bit.) and about how Harry had pretended to know Thomas from accounting. 

“He called him _Tommy-boy._ ” 

Niall slapped his palm against his forehead, “What did Thomas say?!” 

“He pretended like he knew Harry!” I laughed, removing the bacon from the pan and placing it on a paper towel. “I couldn’t keep it together,” I chuckled, shaking my head. I started to tell Niall about the walk home when a loud knock on the front door echoed through the flat. 

My heart skipped a beat. 

“Who the fuck?” Niall raised an eyebrow at me. 

I grinned wildly at Niall, running my hands through my hair again and straightening out my shirt before opening the front door. On the other side stood Harry, dressed in loose football shorts and a grey hoodie, his hair back to the loose curls that I was used to and a steaming mug held in his right hand. “Good morning,” I greeted, my grin still plastered on my face, holding the door open wider for him to come in. 

“Mornin’,” he smiled, his voice hoarse. As I closed the door, he took a deep breath in through his nose before continuing. “Smells delicious in here.” 

“Ah, yes,” I beamed. “Nothin’ like the smell of fatty bacon to cure ya’ hangover!” He followed me into the kitchen, dragging his feet much like Niall had, and I gestured for him to take a seat at the bar while I dropped a few more slices of bacon into the still-hot pan. 

“What’s up, mate?” Harry greeted, pulling out a stool and sitting next to Niall. I glanced over my shoulder, from my spot at the stove, and watched as Niall grinned at him. 

“Oh… not much,” Niall continued to grin.. I narrowed my eyes at him, though his gaze was focused on Harry, silently pleading with him not to embarrass me. He must have felt my eyes on him because they flashed over to mine for a quick second before focusing back in on Harry. “The fuck are you drinking?” 

Rolling my eyes, I turned my attention back to the stove and listened in on their conversation. 

“Errrmm… coffee?” 

“Whatever the fuck for?” 

“Because… I like it.” 

“What self-respecting English man doesn’t drink tea with his breakfast?” 

“Niall,” I groaned loudly, interrupting their conversation, my back still turned to them. 

“What?! I’m just askin’ him a question.” 

I turned around and glared at Niall. “Ignore him,” I said, directing my words at Harry. “He gets a little _cranky_ when he’s sick.” 

“Piss off,” Niall rolled his eyes. Harry laughed, his elbows leaning on the bar surrounding his coffee mug. I turned back around, letting a puff of air leave my lungs, and used a fork to flip over the bacon slices. “So, Harry, you have fun last night?” Niall asked.

I froze, my hand hovering over the sizzling pan. 

“Yeah,” Harry responded quickly. “A lot of fun, actually.” 

I bit down on my bottom lip, my smile wide across my face. 

“Lou was just about to start telling me about what all happened when you got here,” Niall said. I paused again, my breath catching in my throat as I waited for Harry’s response.

“Well,” Harry began, his words coming out slow. “There were a bunch of people there… I met a lot of your co-workers... and I have to say, they were all proper dicks.” 

“Fucking right they are!” Niall cackled. 

“Ermm… the food was okay. Louis got right pissed and made an arse out of himself in front of your boss--”

“I did not!” I whipped around.

“Yes you did,” Harry laughed, looking over at me with a bright smile. 

“Louis!” Niall declared, whipping his head over to me as well. 

“He was all,” Harry laughed, bringing back his obnoxious posh accent to finish his sentence.“Yes, sir. Quite, sir. Such a great party, sir.” 

“You bloody liar!” I threw my head back and laughed. “And I _don’t_ talk like that!” 

“Whatever,” Harry laughed, shaking his head before bringing the mug back up to his lips. 

“You babbling _prick!_ ” Niall laughed loudly. 

While I finished making breakfast, Harry and I continued to tell Niall about all of the events of last night. And even though Niall had already heard about some of them from me, he played along as if I hadn’t told him anything. By the time we were done with our recap, I was putting the top pieces of bread on all three sandwiches and dividing them onto three plates. 

I turned around, two plates in hand, and set them on the bar in front of them. 

“Thanks,” Harry smiled up at me, our eyes locked. 

“You’re the best, baby-doll.” Niall said, his mouth already full. I smiled at Harry, then rolled my eyes at Niall before hopping up onto the kitchen island and picking up my plate. Crossing one ankle over the other, I picked up my sandwich and took a bite out of it. We all ate in silence for a moment before Niall decided to speak up again. 

With his sandwich held tightly in his left hand, he turned to Harry before speaking. “Did I ever tell you ‘bout the time Lou got electrocuted in his testies?” 

I choked on my food. 

Harry, who had been taking a sip of his coffee, spluttered some before slapping a hand over his mouth. I glared at Niall, who happily took another bite of his food while shrugging slightly at me. 

Finally recovering, Harry gasped once before laughing loudly. “How the fuck did you manage that?” 

His question was clearly directed at me, but before I could even open my mouth to speak, Niall cut in. “We was sneakin’ outta the house, right? And we decided to cut through this field, but at the end of the field was this electric fence,” Niall paused to laugh. “And this fence was a right _bitch_ , lemme just tell you,” he said, gesturing wildly with his hands. I brought my hands up to hide my face, groaning loudly as Niall continued. Even without looking, I could feel Harry’s eyes on me as he laughed along with Niall’s story. 

“So we dragged over this, like... bale of hay? or summin’-- what was it, Lou?” 

“Fuck you,” I mumbled into my hands. 

They both laughed loudly. 

“Whatever, it doesn’t matter,” Niall continued. “So I jump over first, right? Like I just _soared_ right over this bitch!” I removed my hands and glared at Niall, watching as he stood to act out the scene. “And I’m standin’ on the other side, _yellin’_ at Lou: Move you fat arse, Tommo!” He said, cupping his hands around his mouth. My eyes flicked over to Harry, who was listening intently to Niall’s story, his face lit up with amusement. I couldn’t help but bite back a grin; not at the memory Niall was currently making me relive, but at how excited Harry was to hear about it. 

“So finally, he goes to jump, right? But right when his foot was ‘bout to let go of the bale, it started to tip over!” Niall exclaimed, his voice growing louder as he neared the end of this horrible memory. “So I don’t know, I guess he tried to overcompensate or summin’-- Whatever! Either way, summin’ happened and _just the edge_ of his nutsack hit the fence and _BOOM!_ ” Niall slapped his hand down on the counter, “Forever a changed man!” 

Harry cackled loudly, leaning forward and gripping his sides. I stared blankly at Niall, my eyes narrowed in his direction. Niall turned back to me, laughing so loud that he went into a coughing fit; I continued to glare at him.

“Did they ever heal?!” Niall exclaimed in the midst of his coughing. “Come on, whip ‘em out! Let us take a look!” 

Harry laughed even louder, his arms folded on the bar and his head buried in them. 

“I will do _no such_ thing,” I replied dryly. 

“Ohhhh man,” Niall trailed off, snuffling loudly and bringing his hand up to wipe the tears off his cheeks. “That was a _good_ night.”

“For you, maybe!” I exclaimed, though I couldn’t help but chuckle a bit at the way Harry was still laughing. “I got fucking electrocuted!” 

“You cried!” Niall laughed louder, pointing an accusing finger at me. Harry’s head flew up, his face red from laughing, his eyes wide. “You curled right up into a ball, right in that field!” Niall went into another coughing fit, “And--” cough “ _cried!_ ”

“I’d like to see a man get shocked in his beans and not shed a tear!” I yelled. 

“He cried the whole way home!” Niall laughed loudly, looking over at Harry. “I had ta’ basically carry him all the way back to me house! He was a blubbering mess the whole time!” 

“I hate you,” I glared. 

“You fuckin’ _love me!”_

“False.” 

“He loves me,” Niall laughed, turning his attention back to Harry. “Don’t let ‘em fool you.” 

“I can’t believe that happened,” Harry laughed, shaking his head. “Your poor _balls!_ ”

I groaned loudly.

The first time I ever wanted Harry to reference my balls was _not_ in this context. He was probably imagining them all shriveled up and permanently scarred. “They healed up just fine, thank you,” I felt the need to clarify, shooting daggers with my eyes at Niall. He finally sat back down, his hand on his chest as he struggled to catch his breath. He wiped his nose with his jumper, giving off one more laugh before picking his sandwich back up. 

“Harry,” I began, my eyes still locked on Niall. “Did _I_ ever tell _you_ ‘bout the time Niall almost shagged a transvestite?” 

Niall choked loudly on his food.

* * *

  
When we were all done eating, after I had thoroughly embarrassed Niall, it was no shock to me that he was quick to leave the room. “Mmm goin’ back to bed,” he had mumbled, pushing his stool back and standing. “Thanks for breakfast, dickhead,” he glared at me once more, then turned and headed down the hallway. I stared down at my plate, Harry still sitting at the bar, and we sat in silence for a few moments before he pushed his stool back as well. I watched as he picked up Niall’s plate and stacked it on top of his, coming around the counter with them and frowning when he saw the full sink. 

“Yeah…” I trailed off, laughing slightly. “Just, um, set it on the counter there.” 

“When was the last time you did dishes?” He chuckled, turning and looking at me with a raised eyebrow. 

“Ummm…” I paused, “I don’t know. ‘Bout a week ago, I think.” I watched as he cracked open the dishwasher door, only to be met with two racks of dishes. “Yeah, that’s full too,” I laughed. “I’m not that barbaric; if the dishwashers empty I’ll _at least_ put the dishes in it.” He looked over his shoulder at me, rolling his eyes before he let the door fall all the way open, grabbing the top rack and pulling it out. “No!” I cried, “please don’t. I’ll do it later, I promise.”

“I don’t mind.”

“Harry,” I said, causing him to peer over at me. “Please.” 

“Okay,” he agreed, sighing loudly. He closed the dishwasher back up with his foot, then held out his hand towards me, nodding at the plate that was in my lap. I handed it to him and watched as he stacked it on top of the other two, then turned around and took a few step towards me. I gripped the edges of the countertop until my knuckles turned white, kicking my feet lightly against the cabinet, staring down at Harry’s shoes. 

There was a moment of silence before Harry broke it. "So… thanks for making me breakfast.”

“You’re welcome,” I looked up at him and smiled. He had both arms crossed over his chest, one leg crossed over the other, leaning back against the bar in front of me. “It’s one of the only meals I can cook, so, you know. Don’t get used to it.” 

He laughed, his features lighting up, “Right.” 

I chuckled a bit as well, then cast my gaze back down to his feet. My knees were bent, the souls of my feet flat against the cabinet underneath me, and there was only about an arm’s length in between us. I couldn’t help the fact that my heart rate sped up, I didn’t know what his next move was going to be, but I internally begged him to do something; not having the courage to look up at him yet. 

“Lou.”

“Hmm?” I responded, focusing intently on his black shoe laces. 

“About… last night,” he said slowly. My eyes widened just a little bit as I watched his legs uncross and then take a step towards me. My eyes flashed down to my hand, that was still gripped hard to the countertop, watching as he put both of his down on either side of mine; his arms stretched out so that he was leaning off my section of countertop. I finally looked up at him and our eyes locked; he was leaning close enough that his hips brushed against my bent knees. 

I inhaled deeply through my nose, my heart pounding, my eyes fixated on his lips. 

“Mhmm,” I hummed, wanting him to continue. I swallowed, my throat dry from nerves, before looking up into his eyes again. He stared back into mine like they were searching for something, but I didn’t know what it was that he wanted. I slowly raised both eyebrows at him, sucking in my bottom lip, trying not to breathe too heavily. 

“I… um,” he paused, his lips parted and his tongue clicking against his teeth as he tried to find the right words. “I… wanted you to know that I--”

“Sorry lads!” Niall’s voice made me jump and Harry quickly stepped back, folding his arms over his stomach in the process. “Forgot me mobile…” 

My eyes flicked over to Niall, my heart racing, and watched as he hesitantly reached out to grab the phone from the bar. Harry’s back was to him, his head angled down at the ground, and I had to lean to the side in order to see around his shoulder.

I gave Niall _the look._

The look that I knew he understood. 

With the amount of years we had been friends, we didn’t always need words to speak. 

I was telling him, with my eyes, to _fuck the hell off._

“Sorry…” Niall muttered, his arm still outstretched and his fingertips resting on the screen of his phone. I narrowed my eyes further, now _insisting_ that he fuck right off. Without another word, he snatched up his phone and jogged off out view. When his footsteps could no longer be heard, Harry let out a long breath of air, bringing his hands up and rubbing his cheeks hard. 

I stayed silent, my hands now in lap and fidgeting against each other, my eyes staring intently at Harry. He finally dropped his hands, his cheeks now red and looking flustered, and for a few moments his eyes darted around the room; looking anywhere but at me. I chewed on the inside of my lip, breathing heavily through my nose, wishing that he would say something. 

“Do you…” he paused, he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply through his nose. A moment passed before he opened his eyes back up, finally looking at me for the first time since Niall left. There was another second of silence before he finally finished his sentence. “Want to watch a movie or summit?” 

_Fuck you, Niall Horan._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO. 
> 
> Please don't hate me!!! I know you all want Harry and Louis to just _get together_ already, and I like, you know, keep ruining that. But you just gotta stick with me on this one! 
> 
> That out of the way, how did everyone enjoy their weekend?! I stayed true to my word and have done _absolutely_ nothing productive! The amount of hours that I've spent curled up in bed, watching reruns of Rob  & Big is seriously pathetic. (They decided to run a marathon of it and I can't ever turn it down.Seriously makes me cackle every time) I just want to take a moment though, to tell you all _how much_ I appreciate every single one of you! You are all sooooo nice and give me amazing feedback, and it really does keep me going! I could sit here and gush about you all for hours, but I will save you all from that.  
> 
> **A HUGE shoutout to THESE amazing people who never fail to make me gush! Larrydirectionermcflied (x932140910, just because.) Entice (ILOVEYOUBYE) theunknownfish, alltimeimpossiblegirl, DiamondD and finally, my dear LouisLoves (YOU’RE AMAZING.) ** 
> 
> I hope I didn't leave anybody out!
> 
> So, you beautiful people, tell me whatcha thought! Next update will be soon =) BYYYEEEEEE


	10. Fumasa

It was late Thursday night, and instead of sleeping like I should have been, I was curled up in bed with my phone held tightly in my hands, texting back and forth with Harry. It had been five days since the gala, four since the kitchen, and we hadn’t seen each other since. Work was mostly to blame, since we both had jobs that we had to keep during the week, but it’s not like I was getting much work done anyway with the amount of texting we were doing. 

The room was dark, the only light being from my phone, and a smile was permanently etched onto my face; just like it always was when we were texting. Regardless of what we were texting about, he was somehow always able to bring a smile out of me. My phone buzzed as he was finishing up one of his stories. 

_I couldn’t get any reception! I was walkin’ round goin’ all… Lion King with me phone._

**Whatcha mean goin’ Lion King?**

_Youuuu knowwwww. In the beginning? When Rafiki holds up Simba in all his lion cub glory?_

_To show the world?_

_And the music is all BAAAAAAA SOWENNNNYAAAA MAMABESEBABAH_

**Hahaha… I’ve never seen The Lion King, so, that reference is lost on me.**

_What the FUCK?_

You’ve never seen THE LION KING? 

I laughed out loud to myself when I saw his response. I don’t know how I had made it through childhood without seeing The Lion King, but whenever this conversation came up, as an adult, everyone always had the same reaction. They couldn’t believe that I had never seen this bloody movie. 

**Nope…**

_...WHAT?_

**I don’t see what the big deal is. It’s just a movie.**

_Just a movie… ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?_

_The BIG DEAL is that… it’s THE LION KING._

_It’s like… the DEEPEST Disney movie there is!_

_It teaches you so much! About love! And heartache! And loss! And, just like, life!_

I read his texts as they came in one after another, chuckling quietly to myself as I rolled over onto my back. I pulled the blanket up further around my bare chest before I typed out another message to Harry, telling him that he was over exaggerating. I stared at the little typing bubble next to his name, waiting for his response. 

_What are you doing? Like, what are you physically doing at this moment?_

**Layin’ in bed…**

_Fuck that. Come over here right now. We’re watching the fucking Lion King._

My eyes widened slightly when I read his message. I clicked my tongue against the roof of my mouth, glancing at the clock that was at the top of my phone. 

11:49

I inhaled deeply, holding it in for a second as I reread his text, before blowing it out. Though I would love nothing more than to cuddle up on the couch and watch a movie with Harry, my alarm would be going off in just a few hours for work. Going against my inner fangirl, I sighed loudly and typed out a response. 

**Harry, it’s almost midnight. I have work in the morning.**

_I don’t give a single fuck. Get your ass out of bed right now._

**But…**

_Don’t make me come over there and drag you. This is happening, whether you like it or not._

**It’s a DISNEY movie. We are ADULTS.**

_K. Coming over to drag you._

**Okay, okay! Gimme a few minutes.**

_=)_

I tossed the covers back and sat up, swinging my legs over the bed and sitting there for a moment. I stared at the jeans that were laying on my floor, thinking about putting them on, but soon decided that it was too late at night to care about that. Harry would just have to learn how to love me in my fat pants. I stood and grabbed the pair of grey sweats that I had discarded earlier and pulled them up my legs. I looked around for a clean shirt, frowning slightly when I realized that all of my casual shirts were dirty. 

I stood in my room for a second, wondering if I could get away with wearing a dirty shirt, before thinking better of it. He may learn how to love my fat pants, but smelling like dirty laundry was a whole new level of _pathetic._ I crossed the hall and knocked once before cracking the door, peeking my head around and then stepping in fully when I saw Niall was still awake. 

He sat on his bed, laptop on his lap and headphones in his ears. “What’s up?” He asked, pulling one of the earbuds out and raising an eyebrow at me. 

“Need a shirt.”

“Kay…” he trailed off, giving me a confused expression. “What… kind of shirt?” Ignoring his question, I pulled opened one of his drawers and grabbed a black tshirt. I shook it out before slipping it over my head. 

I glanced over at him and smiled, “Thanks, love!” 

“You’re… welcome?” 

I smiled brightly at him before closing his door. I ran my fingers through my hair a few times as I headed towards the door, grabbing my keys from the table before going across the hall. I knocked on Harry’s door, shivering slightly when the wind blew through the open hallway. It only took a moment before Harry opened the door, and when he did my breath caught in my throat. 

On the other side, Harry stood wearing a pair of loose football shorts and nothing else. His curls were sticking in all different directions and his phone was held tightly in his hand. I tried desperately to not let my eyes rake down his bare chest, but I couldn’t help it. I had seen the tattoos on his arms before, but I didn’t know he had more on his chest. 

I also didn’t know that he had beautiful abs. 

Frankly, I didn’t need that detail to haunt my [wet] dreams. 

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I muttered out a greeting as I stepped inside his flat. I turned, staring at his muscled back as he closed the door. 

“Can’t believe you’ve never seen the goddamn Lion King,” he shook his head, gesturing for me to take a seat on the couch. I slowly sat down, my eyes glued to his back as he crouched down in front of the bookshelf full of DVDs, searching for the movie. “Like, it’s the only Disney movie worth watching as a proper adult,” he laughed, his back still turned to me. I let my eyes trail down to where his shorts started, biting my bottom lip as I took his whole form in. “Your childhood was _seriously_ lacking, mate.” 

Forcing myself to speak, I tried my best to sound casual. (And _not_ turned on.) “Well, I guess now wouldn’t be the best time to tell ya I never learned how to ride a bike then?” 

“What the _hell_?” He whipped around, still crouching on the floor. “Did you even _have_ a childhood?!” He cried, his jaw hung open and his eyebrows raised. 

I laughed loudly, shrugging slightly before speaking. “Never owned a bike” 

“That’s _insane._ I’m so sorry!” He laughed, spinning back around and continuing his search. 

“One of me mates down the road had a pretty bitchin’ bike though, lemme tell you,” I laughed. “It was red and white and had these _massive_ tires on it. He was the talk of the town.” 

“I bet,” he chuckled, finally finding the movie and standing up. “Are you ready for your life to be changed?” he smirked, glancing over at me as he put the DVD in. 

“Guess so,” I laughed, sitting back onto the couch and propping my feet up onto the chaise. “Nice sofa you got here,” I chuckled, settling back into the cushions and crossing my arms over my chest. The sofa that Niall and I had in our flat was stolen from his parent’s basement. It was uncomfortable, sagged in the middle, and had too many mysterious stains on the cushions. Harry’s though seemed fairly new, the black cushions being stain-less, and even had some fancy throw pillows spread about. 

“Yeah, and you took the good seat,” he laughed, nodding his head towards the chaise. I shrugged, a smile on my face, stretching my legs out further just to spite him. He rolled his eyes, walking over to the lightswitch and flipping the lights off. I inhaled deeply through my nose, my eyes still focusing on him as he stopped in the kitchen. “Didja want summin’ to drink?” 

“No, I’m okay.” 

The kitchen lit up for a moment when he opened the fridge, but as soon as he closed it the flat went dark again, the only light now coming from the telly. I heard him fumbling around in the kitchen for a moment, opening and then closing a cabinet, before he appeared back in the living room. He shuffled around the chaise, smacking the bottom of my foot before mumbling, “You and your damn barefeet.” 

“Coming from the man with no shirt on,” I raised an eyebrow at him. 

“Touché,” he laughed, grabbing the remote before plopping down on the couch to my left, leaving a small space in between us. I rolled my head to the side, watching as he rested the can of soda in between his thighs and set the bag of doritos down in the empty space. Feeling my eyes on him, he turned his head and looked at me. “What? A man can’t eat doritos in his own home?” 

“No, no,” I laughed, “you do whatcha want.” 

“Don’t judge me,” he chuckled, pressing play before setting the remote down and grabbing the bag. “You can’t watch a movie without eating something.” 

“Oh, really?” 

“Yup,” he nodded, scooting down so that his elbow was rested on the cushion, his bum almost off the couch and his legs sprawled out. “It’s like, a rule.” 

“Oh,” I nodded. “That’s what I’ve been missing my whole life.” 

“Mhmm,” he hummed, opening the bag and tilting it towards me. “Dorito?” 

“Well, if it’s the rules,” I laughed, reaching over and grabbing a handful of them. When the music on the movie started, I tore my eyes away from Harry and fixated them on the television. We watched in silence for a moment; the weird, chanting music blasting through the speakers. I thought back to Harry’s nonsense text, when he referenced this opening music scene, and I couldn’t help but laugh. 

“What?” he chuckled, rolling his head over to look at me. 

“Nothing,” I laughed. “Just, um. Your text earlier was, like… spot on,” I nodded towards the screen. 

He grinned, “The music is _epic_ in this movie.”

I finished my handful of doritos, wiping my hands on my trackies before scooting further down in my spot. I glanced down from the telly, looking at the empty space between us, wondering if I could _casually_ get us closer. I inhaled through my nose, flicking my eyes up to Harry for a moment, watching as he crunched away on his crisps, his eyes fixated on the screen. Smiling to myself, I set my gaze back on the movie and watched in confusion as all the animals danced around in circles. 

I _really_ don’t see what the big deal is about this movie. 

“That,” he began, nodding towards the screen, “is _Rafiki._ He’s like…” he trailed off, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth as he tried to find his words. “Well, he’s pretty much like, God.” I tilted my head back and laughed loudly, glancing over at Harry to find he was already looking at me. He grinned, “He says some _deep_ shit.” 

“He’s… a monkey.” 

“No, Louis, he’s _God._ ” 

“Oh, right,” I laughed harder. 

“You’ll get it.” He nodded, smirking again before looking back at the movie. “By the end of this movie, you’re gonna be like, _whoa.”_

“I’m sure,” I chuckled, holding my gaze on him for another moment before forcing myself to look away. I shifted in my seat again so that I was laying on my side, my right arm folded over my left shoulder, my head resting on it like a pillow. I let my left arm lie flat on the space in between Harry and I, just incase he wanted to make something out of it. 

“There! That!” Harry laughed loudly, “That’s what I was doing with my phone!” he pointed to the telly, a dorito pinched between his fingertips. I chuckled, shaking my head a bit, telling him that he was nuts. I tried to focus on the damn movie, since it would apparently change my life, but I was hyper aware of everything Harry was doing next to me. 

He folded the bag of doritos up and placed it on his other side, cracking his soda open and taking a sip, then setting it on the floor in front of the couch. When he had bent forward to set the can down, the smell of his shampoo filled my nose and I took a moment to appreciate it. Once all of his snacks were out of his way, he scooted down further, his elbow close to where my hand was outstretched. He brought one of his legs up onto the cushion on the other side, his body angling closer to me when he did so. 

How was I supposed to pay attention to these damn lions when a mostly-naked Harry was so close to me? 

We watched in silence for a little while after that, both of us having found a comfortable position on the sofa. 

“I like this Scar guy,” I spoke up. 

“What?!” Harry exclaimed, whipping his head over to look at me. “He’s...he’s the villain!”

I angled my head up to look at him, “He’s hilarious!” 

“Keep watching; your opinion will change.” 

“Nope.” I shook my head, “He sang along with the Lovely Bunch Of Coconuts song. I’m sold.” 

Harry rolled his eyes, “You’re impossible.” I smiled brightly at him and we held our eye contact for a moment longer before he turned back towards the television. I exhaled slowly, forcing myself to look back as well, curling my legs up a bit more. The conversation halted between us again until the scene happened where Scar killed his brother. Right after the scene ended, Harry whipped his head back over in my direction and said, “You still like him?” 

“Yes.” 

“He… he killed his brother!” 

“Meh.” I shrugged, “He’s sassy. I like him.” 

“He’s a _murderer._ ” 

“I’m sure he had his reasons.” I stared blankly at Harry, “The movie only shows the _good_ things that Fumasa, or whatever-the-fuck-his-name-is, did. He was probably a _big dick_ growing up.” 

“Fumasa!” Harry cackled, slapping his palm to his forehead. “It’s _Mu_ fasa.” 

“Whatever!” I waved him off, laughing before resting my hand back down in the [significantly smaller] amount of space that was between us. “I’m just sayin’, I bet that _Mufasa_ did some shitty things to Scar when they were just young lads. You don’t just _kill your brother_ without any reason behind it, ya know?” 

“You’re ridiculous.” Harry laughed, rolling over to grab his soda from the floor and pausing to take a drink. When he rolled back, he leaned his elbow much closer to me than it was before, my fingertips almost brushing against his forearm now. “You’re justifying murder.” 

“It is what it is.” I shrugged, the smile still on my face. 

Though I couldn’t see it, I could practically feel Harry rolling his eyes at me. “Is that your response for everything?” 

“Pretty much,” I chuckled. 

“Is that why you got it tattooed on ya?” 

I paused, my breath caught in my throat, blinking a few times before looking over at him. “How did you know I had that tattooed?” I watched as he rolled his head over to look at me, our faces only a few inches apart though I still had to look up at him, since he wasn’t fully laying down like I was. He looked at me for a moment, our eyes locked before he cracked a smile. 

“You don’t remember that time you almost killed me?” 

“What?” I raised an eyebrow at him.

“The first time I met you, you prat. Well, the first time when you were _sober._ There I was, minding me own business, sleeping on your couch--”

“Oh god!” I laughed, my cheeks heating as I remembered the night he was talking about. 

“--When all the sudden you threw a lamp at me--”

“I tripped!” 

“--And you were like, butt-ass naked--”

“Oh my god,” I groaned, burying my face in my shoulder, my cheeks on fire. 

“-- _That’s_ how I know.” I pinched my eyes shut tightly, still hiding my face from Harry as he laughed loudly. I flinched when his hand came in contact with my arm, holding my breath as he continued. “Nothing to be ashamed about!” he chuckled, gripping onto my forearm. “Got yourself a nice little body.” 

My cock twitched. 

He was still holding onto my forearm. 

“It is what it is, right?” he chuckled. I lifted my head up, looking down at my forearm where Harry’s fingers were wrapped around it, then flicking my gaze up to meet Harry’s. Our faces were much closer than before, he must have scooted down further when I wasn’t looking, and I had to will myself to breathe. I stared into his eyes for another moment before looking back down at my arm. 

Time seemed to stand still. 

I let my eyes meet Harry’s once more and we held it for a second before his gaze trailed down to my mouth. I ran my tongue across my bottom lip, swallowing hard when I realized how dry my mouth was, watching as Harry stared at my lips. My heartbeat sped up and I could hear it in my ear drums, inhaling deeply through my nose as I waited for Harry to move. 

He met my eyes again, though this time they looked different. 

They looked… sad. 

“Harry…” 

“This is the good part; watch.” He removed his fingers from my arm and nodded his head towards the telly. He pulled back just a little, increasing the distance between us by a few centimeters, focusing his gaze on the screen. I didn’t make any gesture to look back at the movie though and I kept my eyes fixated on him. 

I knew he could feel my eyes on him and I watched as he swallowed hard, his adams apple poking out in the process. We stayed like that for a moment, disappointment rushing over me as I tried to get him to look back at me. “You’re not watching…” he said, his eyes glued to the screen. 

“Harry, I don’t want--”

“Please,” he said, barely above a whisper. “Just… watch,” he finished, closing his eyes briefly and holding them that way for a moment.

“Okay,” I whispered, forcing myself to turn my head. I stared blankly at the movie, none of what was happening on screen actually processing in my brain. The back of my throat tickled and my eyes burned but I forced myself to keep them on damn television. I felt more confused than anything, wishing that Harry would just _talk_ to me about whatever the hell was going on in his head. 

I chewed on the inside of my lip, inhaling deeply before letting it out. 

“Maybe we should just, like, finish this some other time…” I said, my tone soft. 

“No.” He finally looked back over to me, “Please don’t go.” 

“Harry--” I began, but he quickly cut me off. 

“I…” He paused, searching my eyes, “I don’t want you to go.”

I bit my lip again, trying desperately to think of something to say to him. “I think… it would be best,” I whispered, leaning up on my elbow to stand up. His hand dashed out quickly, his fingers wrapping around my forearm again and I froze. My heart pounded in my chest and I swallowed harshly, forcing myself to look away from my arm and over at him again. 

“Please?” he asked, his eyes pleading with me as well. 

“Harry--” 

“You owe me… remember?” he said softly. “This is… what I want. As my favor, I mean. I want you to… stay.” 

I searched his eyes for another moment, his fingertips feeling like fire against my skin, before settling back down into the cushions and whispering, “Okay. I’ll stay.” 

“Thank you.” He smiled weakly, holding onto my arm for another moment before letting go. He pulled his arm close to his chest, looking back towards the movie, but after a moment he slowly slid his arm back out across the empty space until it was rested up against mine. The hairs on my arm stood up, the sides of our forearms pressed together, and I continued to look at his profile for a minute before tearing my eyes away. 

I inhaled deeply through my nose, holding it in for a few seconds before blowing it out. I leaned my head back against the cushion behind me, blinking a few times to clear my vision as I stared at the telly. The movie kept playing but at this point I had missed so much of it that I was completely lost; not that I could pay attention now if I tried. I shifted my arm a bit so that it was flush against Harry’s, elbow to wrist, and I was thankful when he didn’t move away. 

We watched (Well, he did.) in silence for a while after that. I heard him yawn every once in a while, which I echoed every time because they were contagious, but I kept my eyes locked on the screen. If he was going to watch the movie, or pretend to at least, I was going to do the same. That _was_ my plan, until I felt his pinky and ring finger overlap mine. My eyes darted down and I stared for a moment before turning my gaze over to Harry, only to find his eyes closed and his lips parted. 

He was asleep. 

I sighed quietly, letting my head drop back down on the cushion, closing my eyes as I tried to figure out what to do next. I let my head loll to the side, resting my cheek on my arm that was crossed over, opening my eyes up and blinking a few times at the television. I let my eyes fall back down to our hands and my heart fluttered a bit; it was better than nothing.

 

* * *

 

I was in that stage of waking up, where you were semi-aware of what was going on around you, but your mind was still clouded with sleep. I shifted my neck a little when I realized how uncomfortable it was, but only then did I realize that I was not in my bed. I heard movement around me, someone was walking around and clearly making an effort to stay quiet. Forcing my eyes to open, I blinked a few times to clear my vision as I took in my surroundings. 

Harry’s flat. 

Our arms, that had been touching when I must have dozed off, were now intertwined together and I looked at them with a fond smile before turning my head towards Harry. His arm was wrapped around mine, his fingertips resting in my open palm. He was laid out flat on his back, his free arm draped over his bare chest, his mouth parted and was snoring very quietly. His head had shifted up in his sleep, his curls now tickling the skin near my elbow.

A sudden noise from the kitchen caused me to jump, my head darting over in the direction of the noise. I saw a blur of brown hair move about before she peered around the corner, an apologetic smile across her face when she realized she had woken me. “Sorry, mate…” 

Shauna. 

I recognized her from the pictures around the flat, but I had never properly met her. 

Without another word, she ducked back into the kitchen to continue whatever it was that she had been doing. Harry started to stir, the hand that had been resting atop mine scrunching into a fist as he stretched out. He must have had the same realization that I had, (That he wasn’t in his bed.) because his eyes quickly darted open and he sat up straight, our arms pulling apart. 

“Jesus, you scared me,” Harry said, his voice hoarse from his sleep. He looked around the living room for a moment, squinting at the bright sun light that was coming in through the balcony doors, before letting his gaze fall back on me. He smiled weakly at me, “You stayed.” 

“I told you I would.” I shrugged slightly, sitting up and rolling my neck from one side to the other, my muscles sore from the position I had fallen asleep in. I parted my lips to say something else, but before I could, Shauna poked her head around the corner again and spoke. 

“Harry? Can I borrow your car? Mine won’t start and I’m gonna be late for work.” 

He nodded, still groggy, and forced himself to stand up. I watched as he took a moment to stretch, his arms extended far above his head, his loose shorts sagging in the back as he did so; the waistband of his boxers appearing in the process.

“Oh, shit!” I cried, my eyes widening. “Work! What time is it?!” I stood up, stumbling slightly when I realized my foot had fallen asleep at some point. 

“Errmm…” Harry paused, squinting at the clock that was hung on the wall. “Quarter til’ nine.” 

“Fuck! I gotta go!” I yelped, “I’m late!” 

I darted around him, my foot screaming at me, and just as I grabbed onto the doorknob Harry’s voice stopped me in my tracks. “Wait! Lou, can we like…” he paused. I peered my head over my shoulder and looked at him. “Talk?” 

“Um, Harry, I’m really late for work--”

“No, not right now.” He shook his head, laughing slightly. “I mean, like, later. Talk about… stuff.” 

“Yeah.” I nodded, “Of course we can.” 

“Okay.” He agreed, his eyes darting around the room for a moment afterwards. “Go, go!” 

“Right!” I laughed, giving him one last smile before leaving his flat. I fished around in my pockets for my keys, then unlocked my door and jogged to my room, noticing that Niall had already left for work. As I was gathering up clothes to take with me into the bathroom, I noticed my phone laying on my bed and I snatched it up. I winced when I saw that I had three missed calls; two from Niall, one from my office. I unlocked the phone and clicked on my messages, skimming through Niall’s mass amount of texts he had sent me as I headed towards the shower. 

_It’s awfully quiet in here… are you still in bed?_

_Louuuuuuuuuuu_

_You’re awake, aren’t you?_

_Wtf where are you?_

_LOOOOUUUIIISSSSS_

_We’re gonna be late for work…_

_Kk… I’m leaving without you…_

_You’re not dead, right?_

_Please don’t be dead._

_Boss is asking where you are… they tried calling you… I told em’ you were runnin’ late_

_HOW LATE ARE YOU RUNNING?_

_Oh my god. You ARE dead!!!!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you tell what movie I was watching when I got inspired to write this...? 
> 
> That movie really **is** deep. That monkey, man. I'll tell you. That motherfucker is _wise._
> 
> ANYWAY. I wish I could come up with some really great adjectives to describe how wonderful all of you are. Like, I'm about to just start making up words, because all the words I know just don't cut it. You all make me smile every time! I never thought this story would go over as well as it _is_ and I am SOOOOOOOO thankful and grateful for it! AND the more you guys like/read/comment/whatever, the more inspired I get! Which is great! Because then I have another excuse to slack off at work! WOOOOOOO. 
> 
> **I would like to give the largest of shoutouts to THESE FUCKING BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE that left me a comment: (If you ever comment and I forget to shout you out, PLEASE tell me so that I can feel dumb and then make it up to you the next time.) Entice (GIRRRRL YOU LIKE, MAKE MY WORLD GO ROUND.) larrydirectionermcflied (x9328140921), seestern, LouisLoves (YOU'RE MY OTHER HALF.), DiamondD, Lilybelle and lastly, but certainly not least, theunknownfish. I LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH.**
> 
> I wasn't going to update until tomorrow, but I'm feeling feisty. 
> 
> Can't wait for you guys to read the next chapter! It is another one that I have had planned out WAY before I even started writing this story and I was so excited to write! So that will be posted here soon =) BYYYYYYEEEEEE!!!!


	11. 500 Miles

I was frustrated. 

It had been almost two weeks now since the Homelle & Dean gala. 

Twelve days, to be exact. 

_Eleven days_ since we almost kissed in the kitchen. 

_Seven days_ since the night at his flat.

But since then, nothing else has happened. He had asked me, as I was leaving his flat that morning, if we could talk later. I don’t know what sort of _sense of time_ that curly headed bastard had, but a week seemed like too long. At the beginning of this week, we had been texting back and forth as usual; constant chatter and banter throughout our workdays. But for the past few days, he’s been unusually quiet. 

I had even resorted to _texting him first_. Which, as a rule, I didn’t do. 

But he was leaving me no choice. 

We had seen each other in passing here and there, but he never brought up the night in the hallway. 

Or the morning in the kitchen. 

_Or_ the night we watched The Lion King.

 _Or_ whatever it was that he had wanted to “talk” about. 

And because of that, I was frustrated. 

Very frustrated. 

I brought a hand up to my face and rubbed my cheeks hard. Niall was in the middle of the telling me a story, but I had zoned out halfway through, my mind incapable of listening. It was late in the evening and Niall and I had stopped to pick up chinese on the way home, then proceeded to eat it while sitting on the floor in front of the telly. We didn’t even utilize the coffee table, either. We sat cross legged, red take out boxes in one hand, chopsticks in the other, our backs leaned against the table behind us. 

I was pretty proud of my chopsticks-skills. 

Niall, on the other hand, struggled. 

“Why don’t you just use a fork?” I would ask him. 

“It’s about the _experience_ , Lou!” would be his response. 

As I picked through my box of sesame chicken, avoiding the peppers that were mixed in, I tried to focus in on Niall’s story. “Her bedroom was a right _mess,_ bro. Like, I’m tellin’ ya, you think _our_ flat is messy? You should have _seen_ this room!” He was swinging his hand around, in the midst of telling his story, and because of his not-so-graceful chopsticks skills, he sent a piece of sweet and sour chicken right at me. 

“You fucking prick,” I groaned, looking down at the red stain on my white shirt. 

“My bad.” He shrugged half-heartedly, reaching over with his left hand and trying to pick the piece of chicken up from my lap.

“Stop it!” I swatted his hand away, after he had dropped the chicken two more times. (Causing two more stains.) I picked up the piece of chicken with my fingertips and flung it back over at Niall. Unaffected, he picked the piece up from it’s spot on the floor and popped it in his mouth. 

I grimaced.

“Anyway,” he said, pausing a moment to chew. “It wasn’t just the floor that was messy, either! There was all kinds of shit on her bed! Just… everywhere!” 

“Mmm.” I was clearly uninterested, focusing on wiping the red sauce off my shirt instead of listening. 

“Like, there were clothes… shoes… just _piles_ of shit on her bed!” He paused his story, digging his chopsticks back into his container. “Fucking-- HA! GOTCHA, BITCH!” he yelled, directing his words at his food. I watched as he happily popped the piece in his mouth and gave me a toothy, sweet and sour covered smile. When I didn’t respond in anyway, not even a change in expression, he continued his story. “Like, I rolled off her, right? And a _dog bone_ went halfway up me arse!” 

I raised both of my eyebrows and then dropped them as a response, finally returning to my food after I realized there was no hope for my shirt. He carried on with his story; “But, I mean, Niall Horan does _not_ back down from a challenge. So, you know, I did what I came to do.”

“Mmm,” I hummed, gathering up bits of chicken before taking a bite. 

“Pound-town.” 

“Mhmm.” 

“Laid the ol’ pipe.” 

“Mmm.” 

“Banged the sauce pots.” 

“Mhmm.” 

“For fucks sake,” Niall groaned loudly, slamming his container down on the floor and shifting so that he was facing me. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” 

I raised an eyebrow at him, “Nothing.” 

“Don’t play this game with me, Tomlinson,” he demanded, glaring and pointing a chopstick at me. “I’m not in the mood. You’re ruining my dinner _and_ you ruined me story. So, just...come out with it.” 

I sighed quietly, staring down at the container I held in my hands. “I’m frustrated.” 

“What the _fuck_ could you possibly be _so frustrated_ with, that you can’t even spare me ten fuckin’ seconds to listen to me story?” He crossed his arms over his chest, giving me a blank expression while he waited. 

“I’m sorry,” I apologized, setting my container down on the floor as well. “You’re right. Tell me your story.” 

“No. Fuck you.” He narrowed his eyes further, shifting back towards the television and picking up his container. 

“Niiiiaaallll,” I whined. “I wanna hear it.”

“No you don’t.” He pouted, digging his chopsticks around, trying to catch a piece of chicken. 

“ _Muffin,”_ I cooed. His lip twitched as he tried not to smirk, focusing hard on his food, but finally he gave in and chuckled. 

“You haven’t called me that in years.” 

“Because it’s too gay. Even for me.” 

“Fuck that! I call you nicknames all the time!” 

“Yeah,” I said, nodding at him as a smile etched across my face. “Exactly.” 

“You know,” he began, casting a sideways glance at me. “If you had been _listening_ to me story, you would know that I, Niall Horan, am _not_ gay.” 

“That’s questionable,” I said, smirking as I picked up my container and resumed my dinner. “That’s also the second time you’ve referred to yourself in the third person. So, if you could like, not.” 

We ate in silence for a few minutes after that, the telly being the only sound in the flat. My eyes were focused on the screen, but my mind was elsewhere. I couldn’t help the Harry frustration that was still coursing through me. The episode that we had been watching ended, the xbox title screen coming up but neither myself or Niall made a move to grab the remote. “Didja wanna watch another?” he asked, finally breaking the silence.

“If you do.” 

“Louis.” Niall sighed, “Can you just tell me what’s wrong?” 

“No, it’s okay.” 

“I’m sorry for snapping at you,” he apologized, though he rolled his eyes in the process. “You know I love you. Now, what’s botherin’ ya, sweet-thang?” When I didn’t answer his question, he groaned loudly and grabbed the xbox controller, starting another episode before speaking again. “Don’t make me sing the song.” 

“What song…?” I hesitantly asked. 

“You know what song.” He pointed at me with his chopsticks, “I always sing it to you when you’re depressed.” 

“That is _not_ what I need,” I said sternly. 

“You’re twistin’ me arm, mate. I got no other choice.”

“But that _never_ helps me. Ever.” 

“When I wake up!” Niall began to sing loudly. “Well I know I’m gonna be--” 

“Please don’t!”

“--I’m gonna be the man that wakes up next to _Lou!”_

“Niall!”

“When I go out! Yeah I know I’m gonna be--” 

“I can’t hear you!” I declared, bringing both palms over my ears to try and block out his horrible rendition of The Proclaimers. 

“--I’m gonna be the man that goes along with _Lou!_ ” I shut my eyes tightly, leaning forward with my elbows on my knees as he continued. “And if I get drunk!” he sang louder, raising to his knees and grabbing onto my forearm with both hands. He ducked his head around in front of me, his face a few inches away from mine as he continued serenade me against my will. “Well I know I’m gonna be! I’m gonna _be_ the man that _get’s drunk next to Lou!”_

“Alright, alright!” I declared, removing my hands from my ears. 

“Aw, I was almost to the good part,” he said, frowning as he sat back on his calves and crossed his arms over his chest. 

“It’s not a big deal,” I groaned, ignoring his statement and answering his previous question. “I’m just… frustrated that, like, nothing’s… happened.” 

“With what?” he asked, a confused expression across his face. 

“With _Harry_ , you prat.” 

“Oh,” he said, his mouth sticking in the O shape for a moment. “Right.” 

“It’s just… three times now we were _so close_ to like… I don’t know. Something.” 

“Smoochin’.” 

I glared at him. 

“What?” he laughed, “that’s what you meant.” 

“You don’t have to say it like that.” 

“Go on, go on.” He rolled his eyes. 

“ _Anyway_ , it’s just… I don’t know. I’m starting to doubt myself now.” 

“About what?” he pressed. 

“Like, maybe I _was_ imagining it.” I sighed, looking down at my lap. “I was so sure that something was about to happen, but… now he’s barely even talking to me. So maybe it was just, like, all in my head.” 

“Maybe.” He shrugged, “But maybe not. _Maybe_ he’s just slow.” 

“That’s what’s so frustrating!” 

“Why don’t you ask him?” he offered, raising his eyebrows. 

“Because.”

“Because why?” 

“ _Because_ that’s _his_ job,” I stated.

“What?” Niall laughed, throwing his head back in the process. “Come on, Lou. Be the butch; not the bitch.” 

“Niall,” I huffed. “That only applies to lesbians.” 

“Yeah, well, your vagina is showin’ today, cupcake. My statement stands.” 

“You’re disgusting,” I groaned, pushing myself up and off the floor. “And disrespectful!” I added, bending over to grab the half-empty chinese container before heading to the kitchen. 

Niall, right on my heels, continued talking. “Come on, baby-doll. Don’t be like that.”

“Fuck off,” I said, tossing what was left of my food into the bin. 

Niall groaned loudly, leaning against the fridge and crossing one ankle over the other. “Lou, you definitely weren’t imagining anything, okay? I saw it with me own two eyes when I, you know, interrupted you that one time…” he trailed off, hanging his head in shame. “Maybe he just has some other reason.” 

“Maybe that’s true,” I countered. “But what’s his reason for being so distant this week?” 

“I don’t know,” Niall said, after a few moments of silence had passed. “But I’m sure he has a reason for _that_ too.” 

“Do you see why I’m fuckin’ frustrated now?” I asked, throwing my hands up. “He’s just… he’s a big fucking mystery, and frankly? I’m sick of it.” 

“Lou, you know I love you, right?” Niall asked, taking a step towards me. “But he’s probably _just as frustrated_ with _you…_ as you are with him.” 

“What’s that ‘spose to mean?” 

“I’m just sayin’ that like, you aren’t exactly the most… open and honest guy.” He shrugged slightly, his expression showing how carefully he was choosing his words. “When it comes to your feelings, I mean. You… close yourself off.” 

“So?” 

“ _So_ ,” he groaned. “What I’m saying is, is that maybe he’s confused on what to do. So, instead of talking to you about it, he just kind of… shut down? Fuck, I don’t even know what I’m saying,” Niall babbled. He shook his head, opening the fridge to grab a beer. “Do _you_ get what I’m saying?” 

“Yeah,” I said, sighing before continuing. “I speak fluent Niall.” 

“Good.” He grinned at me, twisting off the beer cap and tossing it carelessly at the bin. 

Which, of course, he missed. 

I stared at my feet for a moment, but looked up when I noticed Niall still hovering in the kitchen. 

“What?” I huffed out. 

He spread his arms out wide, before singing loudly at me. “And _I_ would walk five hundred miles!”

 

* * *

 

After Niall and I had finished our conversation in the kitchen, we both had retreated back to the living room to continue watching our show. Niall and I had gotten hooked on watching _awful_ American reality shows. And when I say awful, I mean _dreadful._ I tried desperately to pay attention to the episode, because I really did enjoy all the drama that unfolded in _Teen Mom_ , (Though I would never openly admit that to anybody but Niall.) but I couldn’t help but let my mind wander the entire time. 

I sighed loudly, scooting down further on the couch until my neck was bent in an awkward position against the back cushion, my bum hanging off the edge. I was getting more frustrated the longer I sat there and I could feel Niall’s eyes on me. I rubbed my cheeks hard, feeling like I just wanted to scream.

“Lou…” 

“Do you wanna like, go play football or summit?” I asked, cutting him off, rolling my head over to the side and looking at him. 

“It’s… like eleven o’clock, mate.” 

“Yeah, I’m aware.” I narrowed my eyes, “I just… I can’t just fucking sit here.” 

“Why don’t you just go to bed?” Niall asked. 

“I’m like, crawling in my skin.” I shook my head, and quickly continued when I saw Niall’s lips part to speak. “And _no_ that was not a bloody Linkin Park reference, so please… _spare me._ ” I glared at him, knowing that he was about to break into song. He sighed, snapping his mouth shut, and I forced myself up from the couch; stretching my arms high above my head once I was standing. 

“I’m… really tired, bro,” he said, answering my previous question. 

“Fine,” I snapped. “I’ll go by myself.”

I turned to leave the room but Niall was quick to follow me down the hall. “Why don’t we go tomorrow?” 

“Because,” I huffed, whipping around to face him, stopping him in his tracks. “I don’t _want_ to go tomorrow. I want to go now.”

“But it’s freezing outside,” he said, leaning his palm against the wall and scratching the back of his neck with his other hand. 

“I don’t care.” I shook my head, “I’ll be fine. I’ll see you in the morning, yeah?” I asked, but didn’t wait for a response before I closed my bedroom door. I made quick work of changing out of my jeans and into my kit, pulling on long socks that went almost to the bottom of my footy shorts to try and compensate for the cold. I pulled on a thermal long sleeve, then a clean (Sweet and sour sauce-less) white tee over that. I stepped into my trainers, hopping around on one foot as I pulled them on properly. 

When I was digging in the hall closet for the football (It really had been too long since I played.) I heard Niall pacing about in the living room. “I changed my mind. I’ll go with you,” he called out. I shut my eyes tightly, pausing my search and thinking about what he said. He _knew_ I was upset, that much was obvious, and _I_ knew the only reason why he agreed to go was because he felt guilty. 

“It’s okay,” I said, picking up the quilt that was covering the football. “I’d rather just go by myself.” 

I shut the closet door with my foot, pinning the football between my arm and my side as I headed towards the front door. I paused in the foyer, my hand on the door knob, turning my head over my shoulder to look at Niall. He stood in the middle of the room, a deep frown spread across his features and looking rejected.

“I’m okay, really.” I shot him a reassuring smile. 

He nodded, deciding not to respond. 

After I jogged down the stairs, I headed off down the block towards the park that wasn’t that far away. When we were first trying to find a flat in London, Niall and I had picked this specific apartment building because it was close to a football field. Back in uni, my whole life really, I was obsessed with football and played all the time. But once our real jobs had started and I worked later hours, waking up earlier every morning, I fell into a rut where I never played anymore because I was too tired.

But now, after all that had happened (Or _hadn’t_ happened) between myself and Harry, I saw it as the perfect opportunity to vent my frustrations. When I rounded the corner, the football pitch coming in to sight, I stopped dead in my tracks when I realized the field lights were already on. Frowning slightly to myself, I looked around from my spot on top of the hill but couldn’t spot anybody playing. 

Thinking that maybe the lights had just been left on, I jogged down the hill and made my way onto the pitch. I came to a halt when I spotted somebody laying on their back in the middle of the field though, their legs bent and the arms sprawled out wide to the side; abandoned football a few meters to the side. I stared for a moment, about to turn back around to go home, when I recognized the bright neon-green trainers on his feet.

Harry. 

I sighed quietly to myself, the thought to run back to my flat racing through my mind once more, before I slowly began walking to the middle. When I got closer to him he must have heard my footsteps on the cold grass beneath, because his eyes opened and he turned his head quickly towards me. We locked eyes and he sat up, wrapping his arms around his bent knees, holding my gaze until I was standing next to him.

He had on a long black sleeve shirt, the trim being the same shade of neon green as his trainers, and long black shorts. I watched as he pulled the grey beanie off his head and ran his fingers through his sweaty fringe a few times. When he let his arm drop back down to his knees, he looked up at me again and said, “Hey.” 

“Hi,” I responded, my voice quiet, taking in the sad expression that was across his face. “Are you… okay?” He nodded wordlessly, wringing his beanie in his hands, his eyes fixated on them. I bit my bottom lip, not knowing what else to say to him. I had never really seen him upset before, but seeing him in this state pushed all my frustrations aside. “Did you… want me to go?” 

“No,” he responded, shaking his head. “I’m in your way; I’ll leave.” He braced his palms flat onto the ground, in a motion to stand up, but I quickly darted out my hand to stop him. I told him that he was fine where he was and he nodded, wrapping his arms back around his knees and keeping his eyes down. I let the football fall from my arms, stopping it with my foot before it could bounce back up. 

With my foot now propped on the ball, I stared at him intently. “Are you sure you’re okay?” 

He took a deep breath in, still fidgeting with the beanie in his hands, before puffing the air out of his lungs and shaking his head no. He looked up at me for a moment, his eyes sad, before shrugging and looking back to his hands. “I don’t know.” 

“Did… something happen?” 

“No.” He shook his head, sighing quietly in the process. I chewed on the inside of my cheek in thought for a moment, before slowly sinking down to his level, sitting cross legged to his side; the forgotten football somewhere next to me. “Not really,” he finally added. 

“Hmm,” I hummed. “If you don’t want to talk about it, Harry, I can leave…” I offered, my voice soft. 

“No!” he shook his head again, his tone still quiet. “I don’t want you to.” 

“Okay.” I nodded, readjusting my legs underneath me. 

Silence. 

I watched as he pushed his fringe back, then slipped his grey beanie overtop his head again, pulling it down low to cover his ears. He kept his hands next to his ears for a moment, then dropped them back to his knees and looked over at me. “Sorry that I’ve been, like… kinda quiet,” he said, his eyes locked onto mine. “This week, I mean. Just been kinda… in my head.” 

“It’s okay,” I said softly, smiling sadly at him. 

“My Mum called.” 

“Oh?” I raised my eyebrows, not knowing what exactly that meant. 

“We… um, haven’t really, like, spoken a lot since I… you know, moved.” 

“Oh,” I nodded, trying to be as understanding as possible. 

“Spoken at all,” he corrected, after a moment of silence had passed. He closed his eyes, dropping his head back down, his hands clasped together in front of his knees. 

I didn’t say anything for a moment, wanting him to continue on his own, but I got the feeling that he needed some sort of reassurance from me. “And…what did she say?” I asked, my tone barely above a whisper. I uncrossed my legs, pulling them up to my chest so that I was sitting in a similar position as Harry. 

He shrugged, “She… bought me a train ticket. To, you know, go home for Christmas.” 

“Well, that was nice of her,” I whispered. 

“Yeah, it was,” he nodded, avoiding my eyes as he stared at a spot on his shorts. 

I bit my lip again, always feeling like I was shit at comforting people when they were upset. Niall was rarely ever in a bad mood, but whenever he needed comforting he would always come and tell me exactly _what it was_ he needed.

To cuddle, to talk, to make him tea.

He knew I was shit when it came to emotions, so he learned from a young age that he needed to help me along with it. 

Harry, on the other hand, didn’t know this about me. 

“Are you going to go?” I finally asked. 

“I don’t know,” he shook his head, looking over at me for a split second before turning away again. “I want to.” 

“Then… why don’t you?” I asked, then added: “It’s better than spending Christmas alone.” 

“It’s not that simple,” he sighed. “I… it’s… it’s not _her_... fuck,” he groaned, bringing his hands up to his head and ripping the beanie off again. He let the beanie fall to the ground as his fingers took their place in his sweaty hair. I frowned deeply, wanting to reach out and comfort him but not knowing if that’s what he needed. “I don’t know how to explain it,” he mumbled. 

“Take your time,” I offered, my voice gentle. 

“We haven’t spoken since I moved away… because of _me._ ” He tugged on his hair. “Because _I_ avoid all her calls. Because… well, for the same reason I haven’t _been home_ since then,” he mumbled, his head still bent forward and his fingers locked in his hair. My eyes stayed focused on his fingers as they pulled on his defenseless curls, causing me to frown harder. “I, like, don’t deserve her to, you know, do nice things… buy me tickets… like, I’ve been a bad son.” 

“Harry…” 

“No, Lou,” he said, shaking his head. With his fingers still gripped tightly in his hair, he added, “You don’t understand. She should hate me.” 

“You’re her son.” 

“That doesn’t fucking matter!” he exclaimed, bringing his head up to look over at me, his hands momentarily hovering in the air. I winced at his words, biting my bottom lip even harder, my hands gripping hard to each other in front of me. “She’s just pretending… pretending that-- that I didn’t-- that nothing ever-- I can’t. I can’t... do it.” He shook his head, dropping his head back down and returning his fingers to his hair. “I should have just let her damn call go to voicemail like I always do,” he said, tugging extra hard with his fists. “I don’t know why I fucking answered it. I shouldn’t have fucking answered it--”

“Harry, stop!” I demanded. Before I could stop myself, I reached both hands forward and curled my fingers into his palms, gripping onto his hands tightly. He flinched, not expecting to feel my touch, but he allowed me to pull his hands away from his hair. I scooted forward, my left leg still bent and my right falling over to the side, tucked up in the space between Harry’s legs and his bum. I continued to grip both of his hands and I could feel his eyes on them. “You’re… you’re hurting yourself,” I whispered, in explanation as to why I had stopped him. 

“You… shouldn’t like me either, Lou,” he said, his eyes slowly raising to meet mine. 

“Tough shit.” I responded instantly, staring into his sad eyes. My heartbeat thumped in my chest so hard that I could feel it, and I had to take a deep breath in through my nose and hold it in order to calm my breathing. I glided my thumbs along his knuckles a few times, trying to comfort him in any way that I could; to let him know that I wasn’t running away. 

“You don’t… know certain things about me.” 

“So then tell me,” I whispered. 

“No,” he shook his head. “I can’t.” 

“Why not?” I pressed lightly. 

“Because.” He shrugged slightly, his eyes locked on mine. “I… don’t _want you_ to hate me.” 

“Harry,” I whispered. “I could never hate you.” 

“You don’t know that.” He shook his head, his eyes drifting away from mine and down to my hands, which were still holding his own. “I’ve-- I’ve done shit that--” he paused, “--is… like, unforgivable.” His words came out slow and his eyes were unmoving from our hands.

I swiped my thumbs across his knuckles once more, “But that’s in the past now.” 

“If I go home,” he whispered, switching the subject back. “I’m afraid that it’ll all be the same. That nothing will have changed… and I _can’t do it_ again. That’s why I left in the first place,” he muttered, his words slow. 

“Mmm,” I hummed quietly, at a loss for words. We sat that way for another moment, his lips parted as if he was going to speak at any moment, but I soon realized that he didn’t know what else to say either. “Harry, I-- I don’t know what’s… going on in that brain of yours. But I know that if your Mum bought you a ticket home, she _really_ wants you to be there. I think, like, that should be your number one priority. Focus on that, maybe?” 

It was silent for a few moments after that. His gaze had shifted back down to our hands and he was staring at them so hard I could feel it burning into my skin. I hesitantly made a move to pull my hands away, dropping the hold that I had on him, but his hand darted out to catch one of my wrists before it moved away fully. 

My left hand now back in my lap, I watched as he turned my right wrist over. One of his hands was cupping the bottom of my wrist holding it up, the other was hovering above it. I held my breath as I watched him analyze my wrist, flinching slightly when he traced the broken rope tattoo with his fingertip.

Goosebumps covered my arms within a second, my cheeks heating and my breath still being held in my lungs as I watched. He swiped his thumb across the quotation marks before looking back over at me with his sad expression. “What would you do?” 

“Thats-- that’s hard to say,” I stammered, “without knowing the situation.”

“I… don’t want to tell you.” 

“Okay,” I whispered, hurt but trying to understand. His eyes were locked on my wrist; I could see his eyes flicking back and forth between the different tattoos that covered my arm. “Then I think you should go.” 

He nodded, his fingertips hovering above the tiny bomb tattoo that was near my elbow. “But… I’ll miss your birthday,” he whispered. The breath that I hadn’t realized I was still holding rushed out of my lungs, my cheeks heating up once again. He looked up and our eyes locked, “It’s the day after tomorrow, innit?” I nodded. “Christmas eve,” he confirmed. “Niall told me,” he answered, before I even had a chance to ask. 

I breathed in deeply before speaking again. “That’s… that’s okay, Harry,” I forced a small smile onto my face. “Niall and I are leaving that day to go back home anyway.” 

“Home?” he asked, his tone gentle as his gaze fell back down to my arm that he still held above his lap. 

“Don-- Doncaster,” I stuttered. 

I watched as his hand hovered above my open palm, like he wanted to interlock our hands again. He seemed to think about it for a moment, and as he did a shiver ran through my body, not being able to handle the way he was holding onto my arm so gentle. His head snapped up, “Are you cold?” 

I shook my head no but he frowned regardless. He hooked his thumb under the bunched up sleeve at my elbow, pulling the sleeve down until it was at my wrist. He paused for a moment, just staring, before leaning over and doing the same to my other arm. I sat frozen in my position, not breathing, just letting him do what he wanted. Afterwards, he gently moved my arm he had been holding back over to my lap, retracting his hands afterwards. 

I let a shaky breath leave my lungs, closing my eyes for a moment before opening them and looking down at my lap. We sat in silence for a few minutes afterwards, neither of us having anything to say, and when he finally whispered at me, I barely caught it. “I’m sorry.” 

“For what?” I looked up. 

“That you have to, like, see me… like this.” 

“Harry--” I shook my head, but he was quick to continue. 

“I-- I don’t like being this way.” 

“What way?” I pressed, my tone just as quiet as his. 

“I don’t know.”

“Upset?” 

“Yeah, I guess.” He shrugged lightly, wringing his hands together in his lap. 

I reached my hand out and rested it on his bent knee, “You don’t have to be sorry for that.” 

“I like to keep it to myself,” he whispered. “I don’t… _like_ being around people when I’m upset.” His words stung a little and I retracted my hand, folding it back into my lap and looking away from him. “No, no-- that’s not what I meant,” he reached over and cupped my chin, turning my head back towards him. “I didn’t mean it like that.” 

I blinked at him a few times, the frown still on my face, his fingers like fire against my chin. “It’s different,” he muttered, his eyes still locked on mine. “With you, I mean. It’s different. I don’t know why… it just is.” I bit the inside of my lip, leaning into his touch when his thumb stroked my cheek. “You make me _want_ to be different. I know that’s… weird, but it’s true.” 

“Different how?” I choked out. 

He let his hand drop from my chin and he hovered it over my hand for a moment before grabbing it, squeezing tightly with his. I inhaled deeply through my nose, another shiver running up my spine. “Like I was before-- before I had to leave home.” I gulped, nodding slightly and chewing my bottom lip so hard I must have drawn some blood. We sat like that for another moment, his hand gripping mine tightly, before he let go and stretched his legs out flat. “I… I need to go home,” he whispered. “My train leaves in a few hours…” 

“Okay,” I muttered, nodding slightly. 

He stood, reaching back down to grab his beanie and then slipping it over his head. I swallowed again, blinking my eyes a few times before I noticed his outstretched hand towards me. Gripping his hand, he pulled me up into a standing position and smiled at me before letting go. “Are you staying here? Or…” he trailed off. 

I thought about it for a moment before slowly nodding, “Yeah, I’m… gonna kick the ball around for a bit.” 

He nodded, readjusting the beanie on his head and staring down at the ground for moment. “Thanks, Lou. For, like, everything.” He looked back up at me and I smiled weakly in return, not knowing what to say. “I guess I’ll… see you when I get back?” 

“Right,” I confirmed, nodding slightly. He hesitated for a moment before reaching out and pulling me into a hug, one of his hands held onto the back of my head, holding me in for a moment before pulling back. Without another word, he bent down to pick up his football and then began to walk off. My heart pounded against my chest, watching as he walked away, and before I could stop myself I called out to him.

“Harry!” 

“Yeah?” He turned around, both eyebrows raised. 

“Are you, um, going to be back for… New Years Eve?” 

He thought about it for a moment before nodding, “I should be, yeah.” 

“Niall and I were planning on throwing a party this year, so… if you want to, like, you know.” 

He grinned, “It’s a date.” 

_It’s a date._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooooooooooo?!?!?! 
> 
> What'd y'all think? 
> 
> I know Harry is still being a mysterious little fuck, but hopefully this will give you guys a LITTLE more insight in who he is? Yeah? Maybe? I really like how this chapter turned out. It actually turned out _way_ better than I had planned, so WOO! I know _some_ of you are gettin' a wee bit impatient when it comes to Larry... just, alright, lemme try and paint this picture for you. 
> 
> This whole story? Yeah? It's like a puzzle, right? Every little tiny detail in each chapter is just another piece to the puzzle. If we skipped over those annoying ass middle pieces, that are all colored the same and don't make any fucking sense, we would never have a complete puzzle, yeah? So in order to have a nice pretty Larry picture at the end, we have to go through all the FRUSTRATION of trying to piece together 500 puzzle pieces that all look the same. 
> 
> SUCK IT, METAPHOR. 
> 
> I'M ON FIYYYYYAAAAAA. 
> 
> Um, anyway. 
> 
> Thank you, thank you, thank you a million times over for the CRAZY amount of love that I got on the last chapter! You guys are seriously, like, the wind beneath my wings. I didn't plan on updating this story as I often as I do, I wanted it to be like a once a week kinda thing, but I don't like to make you guys wait! That being said, the chapter I'm writing right now (Chap. 13) needs... a lot of... detail. So it's taking me longer than I normally would. So. I won't be updating again until THURSDAY. Y'all can handle that, yeah? It's BASICALLY like, one day. Depending on, you know, where you are in the world. 
> 
> **HUUUUUUUUGE SHOUT OUT to THESE sexy people that SERIOUSLY make my world go around: DiamondD, Entice (I dedicate this chapter to YOU, to brighten your day up a bit!) larrydirecionermcflied, justafeeling and MY WIFE, BECAUSE YEAH BITCH WE GOT MARRIED, LouisLoves. **
> 
> Thank you guys SO MUCH for everything! SEE YOU ON THURSDAY.


	12. The Goddamn Partridge Family

Have you ever been woken up by a 130 pound Irish man jumping on you? 

Let me tell you, it’s not as pleasant as it sounds. 

“Happy _fucking_ Birthday, you beautiful son of a bitch, you!” Niall exclaimed, straddling my duvet-covered waist. Still half asleep, my heart pounding from being scared awake, I didn’t have time to react before Niall pressed a sloppy kiss to my cheek, leaving slobber in his place. 

“Jesus Christ,” I muttered, my eyes squeezed tightly shut together as I brought my arm up to wipe my cheek off. “Get the hell off me,” I pushed at his chest. He rolled his eyes, rolling over flat onto his back, his legs still draped over mine. 

“How can you possibly be cranky on your _birthday?_ ” he asked, rubbing his hands up and down his stomach.

“Probably because you just jumped on me.” 

“Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy every second of it,” he said, looking over at me and winking. “Nuttin’ like some hot Irish _man_ on your crotch first thing in the mornin’, am I right?” He laughed loudly, swinging his legs off me and spinning around. “Get up! I’ll make you a special birthday breakfast before we gots ta’ leave.” 

I nodded and watched as he skipped out of the room, yelling loudly for me to follow him. I flipped the duvet off me, sitting up on the edge of my bed and grabbing a pair of shorts to pull on over my boxers. I stood, stretching my arms above my head for a moment before plucking a shirt from an already opened dresser drawer. After grabbing my phone from it’s charger, I headed down the hallway, giving Niall a weird look when I noticed him fiddling with the speaker system. 

“What’re you doing?” 

“Hold on… one more second…” he mumbled, pressing a few buttons on the dock. He then stood, retrieved his phone from his pocket and looked up at me with a bright smile. The speakers came to life, blasting the opening riff of an old 50 Cent song. I rolled my eyes, shuffling around him and heading towards the kitchen as he began shouting loudly along with the song. “Go _Louis!_ It’s your birthday! _We gonna party_ like… it’s ya’ birthday!” 

I noticed a red gift bag sitting on the bar with a white envelope leaning against it. 

“Niall!” I smiled widely as I turned around, “I told you not to get me anything!” 

He was bent forward slightly, his hands resting on his thighs, popping his bum back and forth when he replied. “Not from me, mate. _This_ is my gift to you!” His eyes lit up as he darted towards me, pushing me back against the bar before spinning around, bending forward and pressing his bum up against my crotch. 

“For fucks sake!” I laughed loudly, recovering from being pushed back so abruptly and squeezing away from him. His eyes still alight with mischief, he made an attempt to pull me back towards him but I side stepped out of his way at the last second. He spun around, making grabby hands at me and my hand instinctively went to cover my crotch. 

He threw his head back and laughed, “Sorry, am I gettin’ you all hot and bothered?” 

“Not in the slightest.” I shook my head, a smirk still across my face as I chuckled. 

“This song not doin’ it for ya?” 

“Nope,” I laughed. 

“Okay, okay,” he chuckled, pausing to retrieve his phone again. He pressed a few buttons and the song changed, the opening riff of Birthday Sex by Jeremih playing loudly through the speakers. I rolled my eyes, groaning loudly at him as he started singing towards me, his fists held out in front of his chest, his eyes locked to mine. 

“It’s your birthday so I know you wanna ri-i-i-i-de out! _Even_ if we only go to my-y-y-y-y house!” 

“Are you quite finished?” I asked him with a blank expression. 

He laughed loudly, turning the volume down before heading around me and into the kitchen. Turning my attention back to the gift bag on the bar, the smile creeping back onto my face, I spoke up again. “If it’s not from you….” 

“Don’t be daft,” Niall said, opening the fridge and grabbing some ingredients. “It’s _clearly_ from Harry.” 

“What?” I asked, taken back. “How? He’s... in Cheshire.” 

“Yup.” 

“How’d it get here?” I asked, quirking an eyebrow at him. 

“Y’know that bird that he lives with?” Niall asked, opening the cabinet and grabbing a large green mixing bowl. 

“Shauna.” 

“Yeah.” He nodded, setting the bowl down and looking over at me. “She brought it over this morning.” 

“Oh,” I replied casually, not able to bite back the toothy smile that appeared across my face. 

“She said that he gave her strict instructions,” Niall explained, dumping the pancake mix into the bowl. “That she had to drop it off with me before you woke up,” he continued, holding the bowl underneath the tap and adding some water to it. “That’s _also_ why I’m awake this fuckin’ early. So. Fuck him.” 

I stared down at the gift, thumbing the envelope as I thought about Harry sitting Shauna down and going over with her exactly what he wanted. I could feel Niall’s eyes on me and I looked up. He had paused on his way back to the island, bowl in hand, and had an eyebrow raised at me. An expression that read, _really, mate?_

“Go on then.” He rolled his eyes, “Open it.”

I nodded, my smile only growing as I picked up the envelope. I slid my thumb underneath the seal and pulled the card out, inhaling deeply through my nose as I looked over it. The card itself was pretty generic, just “Happy Birthday!” written on the front in gold letters. I unfolded the card and read it silently to myself, Harry’s words scribbled out in black ink. __

_Do us both a favor and keep your feet warm, yeah? Sorry I couldn’t be there. -H_

__I read the words twice, biting my bottom lip as I set the card down and grabbed the bag, peeling back the tissue paper and laughing loudly when I saw what was inside.

“What is it?” Niall asked, having paused his cooking to stare at me. 

“Oh my god,” I cackled, squinting my eyes shut and throwing my head back. 

“Show me!” Niall demanded, getting impatient. I bit my bottom lip again, reaching into the bag and pulling out the oversized slippers that were resting at the bottom. “Is that… Scar? From… The Lion King?” Niall asked, his words coming out slow as he pieced it together, a judgemental expression across his face. 

“Yes… it is.” I smirked, my cheeks heated and unable to contain my happiness. 

“Well… any doubts I had on whether or not that man was gay, are _clearly_ out the window,” Niall groaned, returning to his pancake batter. 

“Hey!” I laughed, “be nice. It’s… it’s an inside joke.” 

“Oh, right, right,” he mocked. “ _Inside_ joke. Kay.” 

“Aw, is somebody jealous?” I cooed, setting the slippers down and walking towards Niall, pinching one of his cheeks roughly between my thumb and forefinger. 

“Fuck off!” He slapped my wrist, then rubbed his cheek as he continued, “I got _nothing_ to be jealous of. _You told me_ not to get you a gift. But… if I had, it’d be _much better_ than some fuckin’ slippers. You don’t even _wear_ slippers!” 

“Oh, Niall,” I said, my tone soft as he turned his back on me, picking up his whisk and tending to the bowl. “He knows that. It’s clearly a joke.”

“Yeah, well, it ain't funny,” he snapped. 

I stepped up behind him, slinking my arms around his waist and interlocking my hands on his chest. I rested my cheek on his shoulder before I purred in his ear, “Makes me all tingly inside when you get possessive like this.” 

“Fuck off,” he laughed loudly, pushing me away and scooting around to the other side of the island. 

I hopped up onto the kitchen counter, digging my phone out of my pocket and bringing up the string of text messages between Harry and I. My thumbs hovered over the keyboard for a moment as I chewed on my bottom lip. I looked over at the slippers that were sitting on the bar, my smile growing wider as I started typing. 

**My feet have never looked so fashionable before!**

I hit the send button, hooking one ankle over the other as I looked up at Niall, watching as he poured the batter into the skillet. It was still early in the morning, much earlier than I’d normally be up on a Saturday, so I wasn’t expecting Harry to respond so quickly. 

_I felt like I was supporting murder just buying them._

_You’re lucky I like you._

My heart skipped a beat as his second text came through, unable to contain the fond smile that spread across my face. Niall was muttering something about the pancakes sticking, but his words were lost on me as I reread Harry’s text multiple times. 

**Lucky indeed…**

_What’re your plans for today? Doing anything special for your birthday?_

**Niall’s making me breakfast right now! Our train leaves soon for Doncaster… gonna spend the day with me mum and sisters. Haven’t seen em in a while.**

_Sisters? How many you got??_

**TOO many! Let’s see, we’re up to six now…**

_SIX?!?!?!_

**Well, seven if you include my half-sister.**

_SEVEN?!?!?!?! What are you, the fucking BRADY BUNCH?_

**HAHA!! Something like it.**

_The goddamn PARTRIDGE FAMILY?_

**...Got any more 70s shows for me?**

_Mmmm… nope. I’m fresh out._

**K.**

_Seven. That’s bloody insane._

**Yup. Two sets of twins… my mum is a champion.**

_I’ll say so! Younger or older?_

**All younger! I always come first!**

_...I’ll keep that in mind =P_

My eyes widened when I read his text, realizing how awful mine had sounded out of context. I could feel the blood rushing to my crotch and I dug the heel of my hand down against it, willing the semi I was already sporting back down. It was pathetic how easily Harry’s word effected me. I looked up, shifting my eyes over to Niall and was thankful when I saw he had his back turned to me. I bit my bottom lip, my left hand still in my lap, before responding to his message. 

**Cheeky bastard!!**

 

* * *

 

When Niall and I made it back to Doncaster later that evening, we parted our separate ways on the sidewalk outside of our childhood homes, our family’s having a combine Christmas dinner planned for the next night. 

I had spent almost two hours sat on the living room floor, the youngest of my sisters, Macy, curled in my lap while Phoebe and Daisy took turns showing me every new toy they had received since the last time I’d been home. Lottie, almost seventeen now, sat uninterested on the sofa until I asked to see her drivers permit. 

“Ah, look how pretty you are!” I smiled brightly, one hand around Macy’s chubby belly, the other holding the permit out for me to look at it. “You remember mine? I looked like a right mess!” 

“You always look like a mess.” Lottie rolled her eyes, snatching the permit from me and placing it carefully back in her wallet. 

“Well, that’s not very nice,” I laughed, reaching out to slap her shoulder but she jumped out of the way at the last second, sticking her tongue out at me before jogging off. 

_“Louis! Louis! Louis!”_ Daisy exclaimed, jumping up and down in front of me. 

“Daisy, Daisy, Daisy!” I repeated, picking up the dummy that Macy had dropped and rubbing the lint off on my shirt. 

“Will you play dollys with me?”

“Absolutely not.” I responded quickly, gently placing the dummy back in Macy’s mouth, making a funny face at her afterwards. 

“Why not?” Daisy pouted, crossing her arms over her chest and stomping her foot once. 

“Because.” I shrugged, “You’re _ten_ now. I don’t need to play dollys with you anymore. Those days are gone, kiddo.” 

“But... I want you to.” 

“But you’re practically an old lady now!” I cried, “shouldn’t you be knitting a sweater?” She laughed loudly and I continued, “Looking for you glasses? Playing Canasta and Bingo down at the senior home?” 

“Looouuuiiiiiieeeee, I’m not that old!” 

“Coulda fooled me,” I replied, the smile still plastered on my face. 

“Daisy,” Mum called, making her way into the living room with Macy’s twin, Rosie, pinned to her hip. “Leave your brother alone, would you?” 

“No!” 

“Daisy,” she said, her tone more stern. “It’s time for your bath; go on upstairs.” 

“No!” 

“Daisy!” 

“Fine,” she pouted. 

“Give your brother a hug,” Mum instructed, bouncing Rosie on her hip. I smiled widely at Daisy as she stomped over, leaning down and wrapping her skinny arms around my neck. I placed an obnoxious kiss on her cheek, over exaggerating the sound effects, then chuckling when she screeched and pushed me away. “And find Phoebe!” Mum called out to Daisy’s back when she was running off. 

“I don’t know how you do it, Mum.” I shook my head, lifting Macy up and scooting backwards so that my back was resting against the couch. I pulled my knees up to my chest, letting Macy stand on her wobbling legs next to me, using my knees for support as she looked around curiously. 

“They’re nothing,” she laughed, sitting down next to me and placing Rosie on the floor in front of her. “ _You_ were the troublemaker.”

“Lies!” I laughed loudly, leaning my head back on the couch and looking over at her. 

“You were _always_ into something!” She threw her head back and laughed, “I couldn’t leave you alone for two seconds without you breaking something!” 

“I was an angel!”

“You ruined all of my nice china!” 

“Ehhhhhh.” I waved her off, “You didn’t need that stuff anyway.” 

She rolled her eyes, “Then there was that time that the police brought you and Niall home…” 

“ _One time._ ” 

“Or the time that you and Niall set my kitchen on fire…” 

“Well, you should have taught me how to cook properly!” I grinned, “So really, it’s _your_ fault.” 

“Right,” she laughed. “I’m sorry for not domesticating your properly.” 

We chatted back and forth for a little while after that; she was asking for every detail regarding my job, my life, our flat, as if we never spoke on the phone. In all reality, my mum and I spoke on the phone quite often and I didn’t have much news to tell her that she didn’t already know. We sat in silence for a few moments after that, the toddler-twins fussing with some blocks they had found on the floor, when my mum spoke up again. “So, who is he?” 

“Who is...who?” 

“You’re happy,” she said, smiling gently at me. “You’re much happier than you were the last time I saw you. So… who is he?” 

“Mum,” I groaned, rolling my eyes. “I don’t need a _man_ to make me happy.” 

“Is it that boy that moved in across the hall?” 

I raised an eyebrow at her, “How’d you know ‘bout him?” 

“I have my ways.” 

“Niall?” 

“...Yes.” 

“Typical,” I laughed. “How is it, that you two talk more than we do?” 

“He’s chatty,” she chuckled. “And he keeps me informed.” 

“Mmm.” 

“We _email_ now.” 

“Oh, do you?” I raised a mocking eyebrow. 

“Yes, though I must say, I was _quite offended_ at his email addy.” 

“Yeah, we’ve all been there.” I laughed loudly, crossing my arms over my chest, the back of my head still rested on the couch cushion. 

“Tell me about him,” she urged, switching the subject back to Harry. She reached over and ran her fingers through my fringe, the same way she did when I was little, and I closed my eyes as she lightly scratched at my scalp. “Is he good to you?” 

“Yes,” I answered, my eyes still closed and a smile creeping onto my face. 

“Does he make you laugh?” 

“Yes.” 

“Does he cook?” She continued, scratching behind my ears like I was a dog. 

“I think so.” 

“Does he have a steady job?” 

“Yes.” 

“Do you wear condoms?” 

_“Mum!”_ I yelled, my eyes shooting open and sitting up straight, craning my neck away from her hands. She laughed loudly, throwing her head back and gripping her sides as I glared at her. 

“What? I have to ask.”

“ _Nooooo_ , you don’t!” I exclaimed. “You’re gross!” 

“Still so uncomfortable with the sex topic,” she chuckled. 

I grimaced, “It’s weird! I don’t want to talk to you about this!” I said, bracing my palms down on the floor and pushing myself up into a standing position. “Ever!

“You remember the first time I tried to have the sex talk with you?” She laughed even louder, pointing a finger at me before she continued. “You hid under your bed and screamed at me to leave you alone!” 

“Well, I’m ‘bout to do the same if you don’t stop,” I chuckled, shaking my head at her. 

“You know, when you were about five, you came running into my room one morning and _screamed_ at the top of your lungs: _Mummy! My willy’s hard!”_

 

* * *

 

It was after midnight when I finally laid down to go to bed, relishing in the fact that I was sleeping in my childhood bed. I stared at the ceiling for a long time, remembering every crack in it. The room was dark except for the street lights peering through the window, the house quiet as everyone had already gone to bed. I was about to drift off when suddenly my phone started ringing loudly next to me, the screen lighting up a section of the room and the vibrating amplified against the wood of the table. 

I reached over, squinting my eyes at the screen for a moment until I could read it clearly. 

Harry. 

I sat up straight, my heart pounding; we had never talked on the phone before. I swiped my thumb over the answer bar, pausing for a brief second to inhale deeply before pressing the phone against my ear. “Hello?” 

_”Hi._ ” His groggy voice came through the speakers. I bit down on my bottom lip, grinning to myself as I scooted back against the headboard, bringing my legs up to my chest and resting my arm on them. _”Were you asleep?”_

“No,” I muttered. “What’s up?” 

There was silence on the other end for a moment before he spoke again, _”Nothing.”_

I let a breathy chuckle leave my lungs, “Didja need something?” 

_”...No.”_

“Harry,” I laughed. “ _You_ called me.” 

_”I know,”_ he said, and I could hear the grin in his voice. 

There was a brief silence between us. I was absentmindedly picking at a frayed thread on my trackies as I listened to him breathe. I thought back to our conversation on the football pitch the other day and hesitantly spoke up, “Is everything… going alright? There in Cheshire, I mean.” 

_”Yeah… it’s-- it’s much nicer than I was expecting.”_

“Well, that’s good!” 

_”My mum is really happy that I’m here… she, um, told me to thank you.”_

I stopped picking at the thread, “Me?” 

_”Yeah. I told her, you know, about… what we talked about.”_

He told her _about me._

“Oh,” I said, trying my best to sound casual. “Well… you can tell her she’s very welcome.” 

He chuckled quietly, _“And, um, I wanted to thank you, too.”_

“Harry.” I smiled, even though he couldn’t see it. “You don’t have to thank me.” Silence fell back over between us, but the smile was still stretched over my features. He had told him mum about me. I briefly thought about telling Harry of the conversation that I had with my mum earlier, but I chose not to, not wanting to imply that there was an established relationship between us. 

_”So… you liked your gift?”_

“I loved it!” I exclaimed, “I laughed so hard. Niall didn’t get it… so he’s judging you pretty hard, mate.” 

He chuckled, _“I’m okay with that.”_

“You didn’t have to get me anything though,” I added, my tone quiet. 

_”I know I didn’t_ have _to,_ ” he said, _”but… I wanted to.”_

I bit my lip, grinning like mad to myself. “So… tell me about Cheshire.”

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO, MY BEAUTIFUL READERS!!!! 
> 
> How is everybody doing?! 
> 
> What'd you think of this chapter?! Bit of a filler, I know, but it had some cute scenes, yeah? =) 
> 
> I'm SO excited for you guys to read the next chapter... it was _another_ one of those original ideas that popped into my head that inspired me to write the story! I want you to _mentally_ prepare yourself for it, kay?! Kay. You guys are ABSOLUTELY WONDERFUL and I'm SO happy that you all are here! Reading this! Commenting awesome things! Giving me an amazing amount of reads each chapter! It means so much to me and, like, yeah. I'm a big fan of EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU. 
> 
> **ESPECIALLY these SUPER AWESOME people that gave me such AMAZING, DESCRIPTIVE, LOOOOONG comments! Entice (ILOVEYOUSOMUCH), DiamondD (YOUR COMMENTS ARE EPIC), larrydirectionermcflied (YOU.) and my BEAUTIFUL WIFE, LouisLoves! You guys take my breath away every single time and I'll never stop telling you how much I love you all!**
> 
> But guys, really, on a serious note? Like... can we all just take a second? I have a very important question... what the FUCK is up with FLIMSY ASS POPTARTS? Like, I'm just trying to eat my damn breakfast... and THIS happens _every time_ : [(FUCKING CLICK THIS SHIT)](http://25.media.tumblr.com/e0fa93ba0fe0bd981b991c1b92f21f3a/tumblr_mzht0mK4pm1s8zwceo1_500.jpg) leaving me with a BIG OL' PILE OF CRAP PIECES to pick through. Please tell me I'm not the only one with this problem. Is it something I'm doing wrong? Am I TOO ROUGH with them? Fuck you, poptarts. Fuck you. 
> 
> ANYWAY. I will be updating _very_ soon! STAY SEXY. BYYYYEEE.


	13. New Years Eve

“Which do you like better? The black or white?” 

“Errm… black.” 

“With the blazer or no blazer?”

“...Blazer.” 

“Toms or Vans?” 

“Toms.” 

I shouldered on the blazer, rolling the sleeves up to my elbows and took a long look at myself in the mirror. Niall was laid out across my bed flat on his back, his phone held above his face and his knees bent up towards him. I had a black tee on underneath the blazer to go with my black jeans,, but as I continued to analyze myself a frown formed on my face at all the black. “Is it too… Johnny Cash?” 

Niall raised his head up, peering at me with a raised eyebrow before laying back down. “Nah. I like it.” 

“It’s a bit depressing though, innit?” I cocked my head to the side. 

“It’s classy.” 

“Too classy?” 

“Fucking hell,” Niall groaned, slapping his phone down onto my bed and sitting up straight, his legs hanging over the edge of my bed. “I can only put up with you so long!” Niall glared. “Wear the black… wear the white… wear nothing. It doesn’t fuckin’ matter! He’s already seen you in your saggy-assed trackies; _anything_ is a step up from them!” 

“You’re not helping,” I said, glaring at him through the mirror. 

“I tried to help you,” he stood up, pausing to snatch his phone up. “But you’re impossible. You _always_ look good,” he said, clapping his hands down on my shoulders and returning my gaze through the mirror. “ _Even_ in your trackies with the saggy-bum.” 

I rolled my eyes, “I like my trackies, thank you very much.” 

“Zayn’s here with the keg, so, hurry up.” He slapped my bum harshly, giving me a cheeky smile before jogging out of the room. It was almost nine in the evening last time I checked the clock and I knew that Harry would be arriving back home soon. Niall and I had invited a bunch of our mutual friends over, a lot of which were from our uni days, but even some of our childhood friends had made the trip out to London to attend our New Years Eve party. 

Niall, the party animal that he was, had really planned the whole thing by himself. 

He knew I wasn’t much help when it came to parties. 

I liked them, of course, and attended a bunch back in my day; but since I had moved to London, I felt like I had outgrown the scene a bit. I was excited to see all of our mates again, but I was nervous as hell for Harry to get here. We had stayed up late into the night on my birthday talking on the phone, but afterwards we hadn’t spoken much, since we had both been busy with family obligations.

The only texts we had sent back and forth today were to confirm party details. His train was delayed leaving Cheshire, due to snow, and he had sent me a text to alert me of that; letting me know that he’d be arriving a little later than originally planned.

I had that _gut feeling._

Something was definitely going to happen tonight. 

If all went well, tonight would finally be the night that _something_ happened between us. 

I stood in front of the mirror for a few more minutes, turning one way then the other, brushing my fringe back with my fingers every so often. When I heard chatter coming from the living room, Niall and Zayn finally able to get the keg inside, I finally decided that I was okay with my outfit. I grabbed my phone off the dresser, checking to see if Harry had texted me again (He hadn’t.) before slipping my phone into the back pocket of my jeans. 

Zayn was my roommate all throughout uni. 

Being a first year, we weren’t allowed to pick who our roommate was; hence why Naill and I had to split our separate ways. Zayn and I had never met until our first day, but after we had completed our first year, we had agreed to be roommates for the rest of our time there. We had learned to live with each other over first year and grown to appreciate how the other lived. We both appreciated silence when studying, and we mostly stuck to ourselves whenever we weren’t. 

Zayn was big into art and would always be sketching something; while I was big into streaming movies on my laptop. 

We had never become best mates, but I couldn’t have asked for a better roomie throughout my uni experience. I probably would have never been able to graduate had I lived with Niall, because he would have never let me study and would have always been forcing pints in my hands. Actually, come to think of it, I’m not sure how Niall ever _did_ manage to graduate. 

“Tommo!” Zayn exclaimed, smiling widely at me as I appeared from the hallway. 

I grinned back at him, “Zayno!” I pulled him in for a quick hug before stepping back and glancing at him up and down, my hands clasped onto his shoulders. “Why the _hell_ are you so skinny?!” I declared, pinching at his waist with both hands.

“‘Mm not that skinny.” 

“You’re a bloody stick! Look! My hands can practically touch each other!” I cried, my hands sprawled out wide on either side of his waist, my thumbs towards his belly button and my other fingers curled around his back.“Niall! Get this man a cupcake; _stat!_ ” 

“Fuck off,” Zayn laughed, slapping my hands away from him.

“I’m done with you anyway.” I rolled my eyes, stepping around him to hug his wife, Perrie. “‘Ello, my darling!” I said, kissing both of her cheeks in greeting. Zayn had met Perrie sometime during our first year and by the time we graduated, he had already proposed to her. On the night of their wedding I had gotten extremely pissed, made an embarrassing impromptu toast, and had to be carried out on Niall’s back. 

“It’s the beginning of the end, Niall!” I had yelled into his ear that night, while he shuffled into the parking lot with me draped over his back. My arms had been loosely hanging around his neck as he complained about my large bum weighing him down. “Our friends are getting _married_ now! Do you know what that means?!” 

“That you’re lettin’ yourself go, fatty?” he had asked, hopping slightly to shift me further up as back, since I had slipped down some. 

“No! It means that we’re _old!”_

Shaking myself from the memory, I made my way around the apartment greeting all the other guests that had already arrived. I couldn’t help but let my eyes wander looking for Harry, even though I knew he wasn’t here yet. My nerves returned and I knew I needed a drink. I headed off towards the kitchen, where Niall was tapping the keg, and I leaned against the fridge as I watched him work. 

“Fucking piece of shit, goddamn dodgy little-- HA! I WIN!” he exclaimed, looking up and smiling proudly at me when he had succeeded. He grabbed one of the plastic cups from the kitchen island and quickly filled one, handing it towards me with a bright smile. “Here ya go, cupcake!” 

“I think I need something… stronger.” 

“Stronger, aye?” He flashed a mischievous grin at me, holding his finger up implying that I hold on. He took a sip of the frothy beer as he shuffled around me, opening up the corner cabinet and producing a bottle of whiskey. He set the bottle down on the counter, grabbing two shot glasses from a different cabinet before waving me over. “ _This_ is whatcha need, babydoll!”

He set his beer down to unscrew the whiskey bottle, pouring two large shots and sliding one of the glasses my way. “Nice _irish_ whiskey,” he said, his eyes lighting up as he picked up both his shot glass and red plastic cup. I rolled my eyes, completely immune to Niall’s double fisted drinking strategy, picking up the shot glass and clinking it with Niall’s before knocking it back. 

I grimaced, setting the glass down harshly and wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, watching as Niall chased his shot with the beer. With a beer mustache, Niall exclaimed, “Again!” Normally I would protest, but I allowed him to fill my shot glass back up and quickly downed the second shot. 

I shivered, hating the taste of whiskey, and accepted the half-full red cup Niall shoved in my hand. “It helps!” he said, grinning as I took a few large gulps of his beer before handing it back to him. “There ya go! Better?” 

“Yes,” I chuckled. 

“Good!” He exclaimed, screwing the cap back onto the whiskey, shifting his eyes around suspiciously as he put it back in the corner cabinet. “I’ll keep this hidden over here for you,” he said, winking like it was a big secret. I rolled my eyes, grabbing the bags of crisps from atop the fridge and pouring them into the bowls that Niall had grabbed. We made our way out of the kitchen, me balancing the three bowls of crisps, Niall holding two cups of beer and following close behind me.

 

* * *

By the time 10:30 rolled around, I had made _multiple_ trips back to the hidden bottle of whiskey to take shot after shot. I kept checking my phone for texts from Harry, getting more and more anxious the longer he was silent. More guests had arrived, our small flat seeming even smaller as everyone packed inside. Niall had music playing loudly through the speakers, forcing everyone to talk even louder over it, laughing and having a good time with each other. 

I, on the other hand, was a wreck. 

I felt my phone buzz in my back pocket, my heart beat speeding up as I slid the phone unlocked and read Harry’s text. 

_Just got back to my flat… gonna change real quick. We’ll be over in a min._

I smiled down at my phone, biting my bottom lip as I reread his message. I stopped biting on my lip, narrowing my eyes at my phone as I focused on the last part of his message.

_We’ll be over in a min._

Who’s we? 

I had told Harry earlier in the week that he could bring Shauna with him, if she didn’t already have plans, but I could have sworn he said she wasn’t coming. Deciding that it _had_ to be Shauna, I made my way back into the kitchen, shuffling around the groups of people, and grabbed the bottle of whiskey. Niall, already tipsy, came running into the kitchen behind me. “It’s like we have one brain, mate!” Niall exclaimed, wrapping an arm around my shoulder. “I was just wantin’ me another shot!” 

I grinned at him, “Harry’s gonna be here in a minute.” I excitedly whispered at him, setting my phone down on the counter and grabbing our two shot glasses, filling them to the brim with the brown liquid. 

“Right on!” he replied, his arm still draped around my shoulder. “Here’s to gettin’ you some tail, baby-cakes!” I rolled my eyes, clinking my glass against his before bring the glass to my lips and tipping it back. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand again, the whiskey going down much easier now that I was half-drunk. 

“I can feel it in the air,” Niall said. 

“What’s that?” I asked, grabbing the bottle to pour two more shots. 

“ _Love,_ ” he whispered, then threw his head back and laughed, dropping his arm from around my shoulders. I laughed, shaking my head at him, then downing the next shot. “Liam’s here!” he exclaimed, grabbing my arm and pulling me out of the kitchen. I stumbled along behind him, allowing him to drag me into the living room. 

“Liam!” I exclaimed, swatting Niall’s hand off me and pulling Liam into a quick hug. 

“Hey, mate!” 

“How’re you?” I asked, pulling back and smiling at him. Liam had lived a few blocks over from Niall and I growing up, his family relocating there when we were in secondary school. The three of us had become quick friends and we had managed to stay in touch, even when we had gone our separate ways for uni. 

“This is my girlfriend, Megan,” Liam said, wrapping his arm around the brown haired girl next to him. 

“Nice to meet you!” I smiled as we shook hands. 

I was in the middle of listening to Niall’s obnoxious story that he was telling Liam when I heard the front door open. I glanced over, a smile growing wide on my face, watching as Harry stepped through the door. I felt like time momentarily stopped, feeling like I hadn’t seen him in forever even though it had only been a little more than a week. My breath caught in my throat as I let my eyes fall down to his chest; he was wearing a black button up shirt, but only half the buttons had been done up, leaving little to the imagination when it came to his chest. 

I swallowed harshly, forgetting how to breathe for a moment when his eyes caught mine and he smiled brightly. I returned his smile, biting down harshly on my bottom lip. I had just started walking towards him, eager as ever, but stopped dead in my tracks when I noticed a blonde haired girl follow him into our flat. I stood unmoving, watching as she closed the door behind her and then looped her arm with Harry’s. 

The party was still going on around me, nobody even looking over when Harry had opened the door, but it all seemed like a blur to me. He tilted his head down, smiling and muttering something to her, before nodding his head in my direction. I could do nothing but stand there helplessly, watching as they walked a few paces until they were standing directly in front of me. 

“Louis!” Harry exclaimed, the smile still spread across his face, his arm still looped with hers. “What’s up, mate?” He greeted, his tone casual as if he _hadn’t_ just blindsided the fuck out of me. I flicked my eyes over to her, letting them trail down her perfectly tanned skin and bright green dress; all the way down to her stupid black shoes, then back up to her face. “Louis?” 

“H-- Hey,” I stammered, forcing myself to speak as I switched my gaze back over to Harry. 

I was gonna throw up. 

“This is Bethany,” he said, his words coming out casual as ever, his smile never fading. The same fucking smile that he used to get when I’d make him laugh. I watched as he removed his arm from her grasp, only to drape it across her shoulders and pull her into his side a little tighter. My heart pounded in my chest like a jackhammer, my hands balled into a fist to keep them from shaking. 

“Hi, Louis!” she said, smiling brightly at me. “It’s so nice to finally meet you, Harry’s told me so much about you!” Her words came out friendly, but they were all lost on me. My eyes never left Harry’s face, watching as he smiled down at her as she spoke, his thumb rubbing circles into her shoulder. “Are you… are you okay?” 

My eyes flicked to her, watching as she frowned at me. 

“Yea-- Yeah, I’m… I’m good.” 

I’m definitely going to throw up. 

“Could you, um, excuse me for a moment?” I asked, switching my gaze back and forth between them and taking in their confused expressions. Harry slowly nodded, his eyes locked onto mine and a confused expression still across his face. I smiled politely, turning quickly on my heels and heading down the hallway towards the bathroom. I paused in the doorway, glancing over to the right at Niall. He stood in the same circle of people that I had left him with, a beer held tightly to his chest, concerned look across his face. We locked eyes and held it for a moment, party goers shuffling around us but my world felt still. He raised both eyebrows at me, silently asking me if I was okay. 

Not able to answer his unspoken question, I tore my gaze away from him and stepped in the bathroom, locking the door before bracing my hands against the countertop. I let my head fall down, dipping low beneath my shoulders, my eyes squeezed tightly shut as another wave of nausea ran through me. I gripped the countertop so hard my knuckles hurt, kicking the toe of my shoe against the floor beneath me as I tried to get a hold of myself. 

What the _fuck_ just happened? 

Who the _fuck_ was Bethany? 

A knock on the door shook me from my thoughts, snapping my head up to look at the door through the mirror. Niall’s muffled voice came from the other side, _“Lou?”_ I let a puff of air leave my lungs, staring at my flushed cheeks in my reflection. 

“Gimme a minute,” I muttered, closing my eyes and dipping my head low again. 

_“Can I come in?”_

“No,” I replied. “Gimme a minute.” 

The bass from the speakers thumped loudly from the living room, the muffled song leaking in through the walls. I opened my eyes, able to see the shadow of Niall’s feet underneath the door, staring at them when he didn’t move away. I kept my eyes glued to his shadow, though my mind was elsewhere. I couldn’t believe this was happening; tonight was supposed to be the night everything changed. 

_“...Lou?”_

“Just gimme a fuckin’ minute!” I snapped, banging the bottom of my fist against the wall harshly. I closed my eyes, my palm now flat against the wall and my weight leaning against it, dropping my chin to my chest as I breathed deeply. After a moment, I cracked my eyes open and glanced over, noticing that Niall’s shadow had disappeared. I sighed loudly to myself, twisting back around to stare at my reflection, grabbing hold of the counter again to keep me steady. 

_You got this._ I told myself, staring into my own eyes for a moment longer before nodding. 

I turned around, gripping the door knob and twisting. I stepped out of the bathroom, repeating _you got this!_ over and over in my head as I turned, my destination being the bottle of whiskey in the kitchen. I stopped dead in my tracks, once again, when my eyes landed on Harry and Blondie McFuckFace. He was sitting on the arm of the couch, his leg propped up onto the cushion next to where she sat. She had her arm wrapped around his bent knee, staring up at him as she spoke. I watched as his hand reached out and pushed back a piece of her hair, tucking it behind her ear before smiling at her. 

_You **don’t** got this._

I turned on my heels, ditching my original whiskey plan and heading straight for the balcony. I stepped around the groups of people that were in my way, before my hand finally came in contact with the door handle. I slid the door open, stepping out into the chilly air before pulling it shut harshly behind me. If it was possible to slam a sliding glass door, I just did. 

“Stupid fucking blonde bit-- Jesus Christ!” I jumped slightly, my hand flying to my chest when my eyes unexpectedly locked with Zayn’s, not knowing anybody else was out here. 

“Sorry, mate,” he chuckled. “Din’ mean to scare you.” 

“Fucking hell,” I muttered, taking a step back and breathing in deep. He chuckled again, bringing his cigarette to his lips and taking a long drag from it. I shook my head at him, forcing a smile on my face as I waved him off. I turned my back to him, leaning over and resting my elbows on the railing, exhaling deeply as I stared at the street below. 

“Y’alright?” 

“Fine,” I replied, letting my head fall into my palms and my fingers lace into my fringe, my forehead resting against the heel of my hands. 

“Ya don’t look fine.” 

I didn’t respond, not knowing what to say to him, just listened as he blew the smoke out of his lungs. With my fingers still in my hair, my elbows bent against the cold railing, I watched out of the corner of my eyes as Zayn took up the spot next to me. I let my fingers fall from my hair, my arms stretched out in front of me, able to feel his eyes staring me down. 

“I don’t wanna talk about,” I mumbled, staring blankly at the building across the street. 

“Okay,” he said. My eyes flicked down to his hand when he held the cigarette pack out to me, “y’want one?” 

I thought about it for a moment, then exhaled loudly while nodding and taking the pack from his hands. I flipped the top open and pinched one of the cigarettes out, handing the pack back over to Zayn and taking the lighter from his outstretched hand. I heard the door slide open behind me and I didn’t need to turn around to know it was Harry. 

I stared hard at the yellow lighter in my hand, running my thumb along the edge but making no move to light it. Zayn, sensing the tension, muttered out a quick “I’ll be inside, mate.” before leaving me alone with Harry. I glanced over my shoulder, only wanting to know if Blondie McFuckFace had joined him outside, and once I saw it was just him I turned my head back around. 

Harry stepped up beside me, resting his arms on the railing and looking at the unlit cigarette I held between my fingers. “You smoke?” he asked, frowning over at me. I shook my head no, not being able to find the words to say it outloud. He nodded slowly, probably confused, before looking down at the street below us. “Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine,” I said, my tone quiet and flat. 

“You… seem, like, weird.” 

“Do I?” I replied dryly. 

“Are you… upset that I brought Bethany?” he asked. I looked over to him with a stale expression, blinking a few times at him. “Because… you told me earlier that I could bring Shauna, but since she already had plans… I just assumed that it’d--” He cut himself off, searching my expressionless eyes for a moment. “Lou…”

“It’s fine,” I said, bringing the cigarette to my lips and using my thumb to flick the lighter. I could feel his gaze burning into the side of my face as I blew the smoke from my lungs. I rolled my tongue around my mouth, the bitter tobacco reminding me how much I hated smoking. I glanced over at Harry again, who was leaning on one elbow, his body angled at me, a deep frown set on his face as he stared. Keeping my eyes locked on his, I brought the cigarette back to my lips and took a long drag. 

“I thought you… didn’t smoke.” 

“Well, sometimes people just surprise you, don’t they?” I responded bitterly, huffing slightly as I turned my head away from him, focusing my gaze back down at my hand. I tapped the edge of the cigarette on the railing, watching as a chunk of ash flew off into the wind. He was clearly taken back by my words, staying silent for a few moments before finally speaking up. 

“Lou, I’m… confused.” 

“Yeah?” I looked over at him, the stale expression still across my face. “Me too.” 

“Are you… mad?” 

“Mad? Am I mad?” I laughed loudly, though nothing about this was funny, before bringing the cigarette to my lips and inhaling deeply. With the tobacco still held in my lungs, I shook my head and looked at him. “No. I’m not _mad_ , Harry.” I blew the smoke out, watching as it went directly in his face. His expression didn’t change, nor did he make a move to get out of the way, he just let it happen. 

He looked at me with sad eyes and I stared back. 

“Lou--” he started, but cut himself off as I angrily flicked the cigarette off the balcony, crossing my arms and giving him a cold stare. He closed his mouth, not knowing what to say to me, and I shook my head. I gave off another dry chuckle, parting my lips to speak but soon realizing I had nothing left to say to him either. 

With one last shake of my head, I slid the balcony door open and pulled it shut behind me, Harry making no move to follow me. With my eyes locked on my feet, I blindly pushed my way through the crowd until I made it to the front door. I heard Niall calling out to me, but I quickly stepped into the hall and pulled the door shut. I took a few steps towards the stairs and when I heard the door open back up behind me, I took off in a run. 

I bounded down the four flights of stairs, never looking over my shoulder, and continued running when I made it to the ground floor. My feet pounded against the pavement as I ran down the deserted street, my legs burning and my head fuzzy, my breaths coming out in sharp pants. When I made it to the corner I stopped abruptly, leaning forward with my hands on my thighs and trying to catch my breath. 

I squeezed my eyes shut tightly, taking another moment before standing up straight and looking around. I numbly set off in a walk, not really knowing what my destination was. I was still drunk and my lungs hurt; from running or from the cigarette, I didn’t know. Flashes from tonight ran through my brain as I walked, staring hard at my shoes, trying to get the image of Harry and Blondie on the couch out of my mind. 

I’ll have to burn that couch now. 

I hadn’t even realized where I was heading until I found myself in the middle of the dark football field, collapsing onto the ground and staring up at the stars above me, laying in a similar position that I had found Harry in only a week ago. My chest continued to rise and fall as I breathed heavily, my eyes burning and the back of my throat tickling. I pulled my legs up until they were bent at the knees, my arms sprawled out to either side and I let my eyes close. 

This was not how this night was supposed to turn out. 

Everything was pointing us in the right direction… 

All the touching, the hand holding, the texting, the gift-- the fucking gift. I groaned loudly, bringing my hands up to my forehead and threading my fingers into my hair. Why had he gotten me such a perfect gift, a gift that could only be understood by the two of us, and then bring some… girl with him tonight. 

A girl. 

If that wasn’t a slap in the face, I don’t know what was.

_You’re lucky I like you._ Harry’s text flashed through my mind, causing me to squeeze my eyes shut harder. I tried to clear my head, tried to think of anything but him, but all of the words he had said to me kept racing through my brain. The times we had gotten so close to kissing, the times where he had looked at me with a smile stretched across his face and just stared, not needing to say anything in return. __

_I told you… I like to keep you guessing._

_Thanks for making me breakfast._

_You made me a desk._

_Didn’t mean to cockblock anyone… just locked out of my flat._

I scrubbed at my burning eyes with my fists, the different memories I had with Harry screaming at me in my head. I mashed the heel of my hands into my closed eyes, my breathing ragged, trying desperately to hold myself together. __

_How’d you get my number? -- I have my ways._

_One question; do I have to wear a tux?_

_You owe me, remember? This is what I want… I want you... to stay._

I folded my arms over my face completely, breathing deeply into my elbow as the memories continued to flood into my head. No matter how hard I tried to think of something else, anything else, I couldn’t get the images and the words that went along with them out of my mind. __

_I don’t… want you to hate me._

_You make me want to be different._

_It’s a date._

 

* * *

 

I didn’t know what time it was, or how long I had laid there in the field, but when I finally made my way back to the flat I knew the sun was going to come up soon. The birds had started chirping a while ago, even though it was still dark outside, and as I numbly made my way up the stairs I prayed that I would be met with an empty flat. 

I paused in the hallway, staring blankly at Harry’s door, wondering what he was doing. 

Was he asleep? 

Was he asleep… with Blondie McFuckFace? 

Was he worried about me? 

No. He wasn’t. 

I jiggled the doorknob of my flat, thankful when I found that Niall had left the door unlocked, before stepping inside and letting a sigh of relief leave my lungs when the flat was dark. I shut the door quietly, toeing off my shoes and leaving them carelessly in the foyer. I snuffled, shrugging the blazer off of my shoulders and letting it fall to the floor as I headed to the bathroom. 

I flicked on the light after I had closed the door, grimacing at the discarded plastic cups that were left on the sink. I unzipped my fly and let my jeans fall to the floor, bracing my hand on the countertop as I stepped out of them. After I was done relieving myself, and had washed my hands, I quietly walked to my bedroom. I grabbed my trackies from the floor and slid them on, snuffling loudly again as I ripped the shirt off from my torso. 

I leaned against my dresser, staring at the empty bed in front of me, feeling completely numb on the inside. I was cold down to the bone after being outside for so long, but I made no move to find a jumper to slip on. I scratched at my bare stomach, continuing to stare blankly around my room, my eyes heavy but not ready for sleep. 

I turned and crossed the hall, pausing outside of Niall’s room with my knuckles hovered over the door. I thought about knocking, but knew that it wouldn’t wake him up if he was asleep. I cracked the door open, peeking my head around to see if he was alone or if he had found someone to spend his New Years with. 

He was curled up on his side, his tshirt covered back facing me and the duvet low around his hips. I hovered in the doorway, thinking of heading back to my room for a second, but couldn’t force myself to move. I didn’t know what I needed, or if I wanted to talk to Niall at all, but I knew I didn’t want to be alone. I tiptoed across the room, picking up the side of his duvet and sliding underneath, laying flat on my back and staring up at the ceiling. 

I took a moment to appreciate the warmth of his duvet, especially the heat that was coming off of him and onto my right side. I sniffled again, my nose still dripping, and I continued to stare blankly at the ceiling. I should have never let myself get my hopes up in the first place; then I wouldn’t be feeling as broken as I was now. 

“I was worried you know,” Niall mumbled, his voice hoarse and his back still to me. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“You took off without your phone,” he said, his tone barely above a whisper. I blinked a few times at the ceiling, not knowing how to respond to him. His breathing was steady, clearly still half asleep, and he shuffled his legs around a bit but didn’t change his position. I felt tears welling in my eyes but I tried hard to push them back, telling myself the same thing I had all night: _men don’t cry._

I sniffled as quietly as I could, squinting my eyes to try and keep the tears away. I had somehow made it all night without crying, but just being around Niall made me want to break down; knowing that he would understand if I did. “Why doesn’t he like me?” I whispered, my eyes locked onto one of the cracks in the ceiling. I heard Niall sigh quietly, his legs rustling again but he didn’t respond. A few moments of silence passed, images of Harry still present in my mind. “Why wasn’t I good enough?” 

“Fuck him.” Niall mumbled into his pillow. 

I swallowed harshly, sniffling again as tears continue to well into the corner of my eyes, getting dangerously close to spilling over. I swallowed again, my throat feeling like it was closing in on itself, trying desperately to hold my emotions off. I bit down on the inside of my cheek, listening to Niall breathe beside me, wishing that I could take this whole night back. 

“What did I do wrong?” I whispered. 

“You didn’t _do_ anything,” Niall huffed. “He’s a fucking prick. Case closed.” 

I shook my head, even though Niall couldn’t see it. I snuffled, scrunching my nose up and then coughing loudly when I felt like I was choking on my own tongue. Niall sighed again, bringing one of his hands up to scratch at his scalp for a moment before rolling over so that he was facing me. He scooted back towards the edge of the bed, creating a small distance between us, nuzzling his head into the crook of his arm that he laid on. He laid still for a moment before reaching out and draping his other arm gently across my bare stomach, his fingertips resting lightly against my ribs.

A dry sob left my lungs, my muscles tensing underneath his touch. He sighed quietly, his eyes shut and his head still in his arm. He drummed his fingertips against my side a few times before going still; I bit down on my lip hard and squeezed my eyes shut tight. 

“I just… wish I knew,” I choked out, opening my eyes back up before I added, “what changed.” 

“Shhh,” Niall hushed me, then whispered gently at me. “Go to sleep, Lou.” 

I squeezed my eyes shut, my lip quivering as a single tear finally rolled down my cheek.

I flinched slightly when I felt Niall’s thumb wipe it away, sniffing loudly before opening my eyes. I glanced over to find that he had already been staring at me, his head still leaned against his folded arm and a sad expression stretched across his face. I closed my eyes, leaning my head back to it’s original position, letting another tear roll helplessly down my already-wet cheek. 

Niall sighed quietly, drumming his fingers against my side for another few moments before shuffling closer to me, curling his arm up further towards my chest and resting the side of his forehead against my shoulder. He let out a long puff of air, it blowing out hot against my collarbones, then whispered gently again for me to go to sleep. I nodded, my eyes still closed, shifting down further against the pillow, leaning my cheek against the top of Niall’s head. 

His fingertips drummed against the side of my chest, the rest of his body completely still. I could feel him blinking against my shoulder, but he didn’t say anything else, just lightly tapped out a random beat on my side until he could feel me relax. 

Happy _fucking_ New Year to me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> .... hi.... 
> 
> Please don't hate me =) 
> 
> I know... I just, I know guys... I know. I _know_ what this chapter did to you... it did the SAME THING to me when I was writing it, but I really hope that I've earned your TRUST by now... and you'll TRUST ME when I say to... trust me? Trust. I REALLY DO have a plan and this HAD TO HAPPEN in order for my plan to work out! So, just take solace in the fact that this is going somewhere =) 
> 
> I LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH and I'm always so overwhelmed by the amount of love you guys give me! It makes the writing process so much easier to know that I have you guys to read my work afterwards =) 
> 
> **GIGANTIC shoutout to my favorite people in the whole wide word: Entice (LOVE YOU, BOO), alltimeimpossiblegirl, theunknownfish, DiamondD (You're hilarious!), larrydirectionermcflied and my wonderful raspberry poptart lovin' wife, LouisLoves! If I could marry every single one of you, I would. Yup. I went there. I love you all that much.**
> 
> I'm working on the next few chapters right now... remember when I said they were going to be rough? Well, I wasn't lying. I ALSO warned you to mentally prepare, so I hope you all did that and weren't too blindsided by this chapter =) Keep your mental preparation up! You'll need it! I will be updating very soon! BYYYYYYEEE!


	14. Numb

When I began to wake up a few hours a later, my mind still clogged with sleep, I shuffled my legs around at the end of the bed trying to remain comfortable but soon startled myself further awake when my toes came in contact with Niall’s cold feet. I shot my eyes open, but my confusion quickly faded as last night’s events flooded back to me. I relaxed back into the pillows, letting a breath of air leave my lungs, listening to Niall’s steady breathing next to me. 

When I had finally fallen asleep last night, he had still been curled up against me, trying to comfort me in any way he knew how. Sometime during the night though, he had rolled back over onto his other side, tucking his back tight against my side and one of his cold feet had drifted over to rest between mine. I blinked up at the ceiling, my head hurting and my muscles feeling weak. I knew I hadn’t been asleep very long, but now that I was awake I knew there was no going back. 

Harry. 

That’s all I could think about. 

I would only be lying to myself if I said otherwise. 

I laid there for a while, staring blankly around the room, trying to get his stupid face out of my mind but nothing seemed to work. I sighed loudly, turning my head over to look at Niall but he was still asleep. I gently pulled the covers back, slipping my feet away from Niall’s and sitting up. I sat on the edge of his bed for a moment, staring down at my lap, trying to convince myself to get up. I knew that if I didn’t force myself up now, I would end up lying in bed all day, drowning in my sorrows. 

Finally standing, I paused a moment to pull the fallen duvet back up around Niall before quietly stepping out of the room. I closed the bathroom door behind me, reaching into the shower and turning the tap on hot before stripping out of my clothes. I stepped into the shower, flinching slightly at the scalding hot water, but my muscles soon relaxed into it. I stood there for a long time, my arm braced against the tiled wall, staring blankly at it as the water sprayed over me. 

After standing there for a little while longer, I washed up and then finally stepped out of the shower. I numbly grabbed a towel and wrapped it around my waist before heading towards my room, dripping water with me the whole way. I leaned against the closed door for a while, my hand gripping the towel in place as I stared at the floor, debating on whether or not I wanted to go back to bed. 

Finally deciding to get dressed, I grabbed a pair of loose shorts and a grey sleeveless shirt and pulled them on. I dropped the towel carelessly to the floor, shaking out my wet hair as I turned to leave the room. I padded down the hallway, letting my arms fall back down to my side, grimacing when I saw the state of our flat. Niall and I were by _no means_ the neatest people; but after last nights [disastrous] party, our flat was a right mess. I stood in the living room, looking around at all the empty cups and rubbish left about, sighing lightly to myself as I moved into the kitchen. 

I stopped in my tracks, looking at my phone that I had left on the counter, staring at it for a moment before stepping forward. I hopped up onto the counter, crossing my ankles together and picking up the phone. I bit down on my bottom lip, looking at the red _12_ that was next to the phone icon. I pressed the button, pulling up a list of my missed calls. 

_Niall IS DA BEST **(11)**  
Harry Styles **(1)**_

It hadn’t surprised me at all that Niall had tried to call me, but I was somewhat surprised to see that Harry had too. I closed the application, clicking on my text messages, my thumb freezing in it’s place when I saw that Harry had sent me multiple text messages too. I took a deep breath, chewing on the inside of my cheek as I opened them.

_You ran off before we could finish talking… Where did you go?_

_Did you leave??_

_Lou… please talk to me._

_I’m sorry that you’re upset… are you okay?_

_...please answer me._

I read his last text message, huffing loudly and shaking my head to myself. I slammed the phone down on the counter next to me, leaning forward with my elbows on my knees and resting my forehead against the palm of my hands. I heard Niall’s footsteps padding against the floor but I didn’t look up; my eyes squeezed shut and my fingertips resting in my wet fringe. 

He brushed my knee with his hand as he passed me, “You alright?” 

“Mhmm,” I hummed, scratching at my scalp. 

“You want tea?” 

“I guess,” I said, sighing loudly and opening my eyes, raising my head up and blinking my bleary eyes at him a few times. He had his back to me, fiddling with the kettle for a moment before opening the cabinet to retrieve mugs. 

“This place is fuckin’ disgusting, innit?” he asked, turning around and grimacing at all of the mess. 

“Yup.” Silence fell over us after that; Niall puttering around the kitchen to prepare our tea while I sat silently on the counter, staring at my barefeet. I chewed on my bottom lip, unable to keep my thoughts from drifting back to Harry. Once the tea was brewed, Niall shuffled towards me and handed me one of the mugs. “Thanks,” I whispered, holding the mug tightly between my hands. 

“Do you wanna, like… talk about it?” Niall sighed as he leaned against the island, one arm wrapped around his stomach and the other holding his mug. 

“No.” I shook my head, “I _really_ don’t.” 

Niall seemed to think it over for a moment, staring me down for a bit before speaking. “Well, I have gossip for you then.” 

“Yeah?” I asked, though even my tone showed how truly uninterested I was. 

“Zayno knocked up Perrie.” 

“Really?” I asked, my head snapping up. Maybe I was a _little_ interested. 

“Yup!” He grinned, “What a stallion!” I nodded in agreement, my gaze falling back down to the mug held tightly in my hands. “Also, Frankie got _insanely_ pissed and tried to throw our fuckin’ coffee table over the balcony.” 

“What the fuck?” I looked up at him, narrowing my eyes slightly. 

“Typical, right?” 

“Why the coffee table?” 

“Fuck if I know.” Niall shrugged, pausing to take a sip of his tea. “Maybe I shoulda let him do it. That thing is a piece of shit.” I rolled my eyes, tearing my eyes away from him again. He sighed, realizing that his words weren’t doing a great job at distracting me. “Alright. I can’t take this place; imma have to tidy up a bit.” 

“I’ll help you,” I mumbled, hopping off the counter. 

At least it was something to do.

 

* * *

 

“Roshambo to take the rubbish out?” 

I nodded, wiping my hands off on my shorts before walking over to Niall. I stood directly in front of him, our eyes locked and narrowed at each other. Wordlessly, we both placed our hands face up between us, bringing our fists down onto our palms three times in quick succession.

“Fuck!” 

“Always with the scissors, Lou,” Niall cooed, reaching forward and pinching my cheeks. “Have fun.” 

I sighed, grabbing the four rubbish bags and dividing them between my hands, stepping into my shoes before making my way down to the dumpster located at the back of the parking lot. I crossed my arms over my chest as I headed back towards the building, my arms covered in goosebumps from the chilly air outside. I stared at my feet as I slowly walked up the stairs, trying to think of another way to bide my time now that the flat was clean. 

Maybe what I needed was to wallow in my sorrows for a little while; I wasn’t quite ready to be with the living. I rounded the last corner, my gaze still locked on my feet, when suddenly I ran directly into somebody. I stumbled back immediately, startled and muttering out a quick “Sorry!” before I had even looked up.

Harry.

Of-fucking-course it’s Harry. 

“Lou…” 

“I gotta go,” I muttered, moving to slip past him. 

“Wait,” he said, reaching out and grasping my forearm. I looked down, my eyes locked onto his fingers, chewing my bottom lip harshly. He slowly let his grip go, letting his arm fall back down to his side. He took a step back, swallowing harshly before speaking again. “Can we talk?” 

“Not right now.” I shook my head, avoiding his eyes by staring back down at the ground.

“Please?” 

“Harry--” I cut myself off, bringing my expressionless eyes back up to meet his. We locked eyes and I held it for a moment before shaking my head, “I… really don’t have anything to say.”

He frowned deeply, bringing one hand up to the back of his neck and looking down at the ground. We were silent for a minute afterwards, time seemed to slow down and I could feel my heart thumping against my chest. He was standing in front of my flat door, effectively blocking my escape plan and as the seconds ticked past I was getting more and more antsy. 

“Lou, I’m really confused.” 

My head snapped up, “Don’t act like you _don’t know_ what you did.” 

“I don’t!” he exclaimed, his tone distressed and he was frowning at me. 

“Don’t be naive, Harry,” I huffed, shaking my head at him. 

“I really don’t know what I did!” he cried. 

“You show up to _my_ party! With _her!”_ ” I exclaimed, pointing an angry, trembling finger at him. I could feel my heartbeat speed up, thumping even harder in my chest than before. 

He was silent for a minute, another confused expression across his face before speaking up again; his words coming out slow as he tried to piece it together in his head. “So… you’re mad that I… brought Bethany?” 

“No! I exclaimed, throwing my hands up. I breathed in and out twice, my mind racing, before changing my mind. “Actually… yes. Yes I am.” 

“I’m sorry!” Harry exclaimed, “I would have _never_ brought her if I knew you didn’t want her to be there!” 

“It’s not even _that_ Harry! It’s not that you _specifically_ brought her to _that_ party! It’s that-- that she exists at all!” I shouted, my hands gesturing wildly in front of me as I tried to find the right words. No matter how many times I practiced arguments in my mind, my words never came out quite like I imagined they would in the heat of the moment. 

“I-- um, I…” Harry stammered, his eyes pleading with me. “I’m so confused!” 

“Why does she exist?!” 

“What do you _mean_ why does she exist? What kind of question is that?!” he exclaimed, his words all coming out quick and his voice showing how distressed he was. I bit my lip and he continued, “what does that even mean?!”

“I don’t know!” I yelled, my breathing coming out in heavy pants.

“Okay.” He held his hands out in front of him, palms facing me. “Let’s… let’s take a step back.” He paused his words, his breathing just as heavy as mine. I stared at him, my lips pulled together in a tight line, my heart beating so hard that it physically _hurt._ “You… are… mad at me,” he mumbled, “because… I didn’t tell you. That Bethany was coming.” 

“Yes!” I exclaimed, “wait-- no!” 

“Which is it?!” he bellowed, throwing his hands up in the air. I bit my bottom lip hard, watching as he laced his fingers into hair and tugged on his curls hard. There was a brief moment of silence between us, our heavy breathing being the only sound in the hallway. My eyes focused on his fingers, watching as he pulled at his locks. 

“Lou… please don’t be mad,” he whispered, letting his hands drop and returning his gaze to me. 

“Well, I am.” I shrugged, not being able to find any other words. 

He let his head drop, sighing quietly and staring hard at the ground. I bit my lip again, my heart still pounding in my chest, the silence becoming deafening to me. I needed him to either say something else or get out of my way; this was all becoming too much for me. My hands were shaking, my legs like jello, and I could tell that my face was red. 

“I just… don’t see why it’s _such_ a big deal, Lou,” he whispered, when he couldn’t take the silence any longer either. I let a puff of air leave my lungs, watching as he lifted his head up and locked eyes with me again. I could see the sadness behind his eyes and my expression softened just a bit before I could stop it. 

I took a deep breath in through my nose before whispering my next words, “Because I-- I… like you.” 

“I like you too, Lou!” he responded quickly, his words not so much loud as they were strong. 

“No.” I shook my head again, my eyes closing and biting the inside of my cheek as hard as I could. “I _like_ you, Harry,” I repeated, pulling my eyes back up to gauge his reaction. His eyes widened a bit, his mouth parted to speak but then he quickly closed it again. He took a shaky breath in with his eyes locked on mine, then parted his lips again; a puff of air leaving his lungs when he didn’t know what to say.

My heart slammed against my chest, no longer just pounding, and my legs felt like they could give out at anytime. I kept my eyes glued to his face, watching as he tried to speak. “I-- Lou, I…” he stammered, pausing for a long moment and I swear my heart stopped altogether. His hands were visibly shaking, his bottom lip trembling as he searched for his response. 

Silence. 

I watched as he brought his fingers back up to his hair, gripping fistfulls of his hair and tugging hard on them. I made no move to stop him, just watching as he ripped at his curls. He took a deep breath in, moving his fingers down to scrub hard at his cheeks, his bleary eyes finally meeting mine afterwards; his cheeks now flushed pink. “Lou, I’m-- I’m not… “ he stuttered, looking away from my eyes and visibly biting his bottom lip. 

He closed his eyes, still biting his lips, his head turned away from me. “I’m not… gay.” 

As soon as the words were out, I found myself wishing that my heart _had_ stopped beating; at least then I wouldn’t be able to feel the pain that I did right now. My breath caught in my throat and I could do nothing but stare at him. His eyes had opened again, still staring down at the ground, his arms crossed over low on his stomach. 

“I thought you… knew that,” he whispered, avoiding my eyes all together now as he fidgeted with his hands. Any emotion that had been on my face before was now gone and I could do nothing but blink at him. His words cutting through me so sharply that I couldn’t even react; frankly I could barely hear them over the ringing in my ears. He spoke up again, his tone soft but not soft enough to make his words hurt any less. “I… I should have made that clear.” 

“Yeah,” I squeaked, the heat from my cheeks spreading over to my ears. “You should have.” 

“You’re an amazing person, Lou, I just--”

“Don’t like men. Right.” I snapped, finishing his sentence for him. 

“I’ve-- I’ve never been in a situation like this…” 

“Right. Sorry I put you in such a _situation._ ” I tried my best to make my words sound bitter-- spiteful even, but they came out weak and shaky, much to my inner protest. 

“That’s not what I meant.” He shook his head, his eyes raising to meet mine again. “That’s _not_ what I meant,” he repeated, emphasizing his words more. 

“Fine. Whatever. Just…” I paused, biting on the inside of my cheek harshly. “Just whatever,” I finished, making a move to step around him but he was quick to grab onto my arm again. “Stop!” I exclaimed, finding my voice again and ripping my arm away from him. “ _Don’t_ touch me.” 

“Lou,” he whispered. 

“And don’t call me that!” 

“Louis.”

“Just leave me alone, Harry!” I snapped, darting around him and trying to unlock the door as quickly as possible, mentally cursing out the flat complex for our doors not being able to stay unlocked. 

“Please don’t walk away,” he said, his tone so quiet that I almost missed it over the sound of my keys. 

“I can’t look at you right now,” I muttered, refusing to look over my shoulder at him as I jammed the key into the lock and twisted it. 

“Please! We need to talk about this!” 

_Slam._

I leaned my back against the closed door, my breaths coming in pants, my eyes squeezed shut as hard as I could. I brought my hand up to cover my mouth, leaning forward with my palm tight across my lips. My whole body felt weak, like my muscles would give out at any second, and the ringing in my ears was now so loud I didn’t even hear Niall’s footsteps.

“Louis? What happened?” I looked up when he spoke, realizing that he was standing directly in front of me, a worried expression painted across his face. My thoughts had all become fuzzy, my muscles numb and I wanted nothing more than to block the last twenty four hours out my brain for good. 

“Nothing,” I said, my tone flat and calm. I shoved off the door, shuffling around him and heading down the hall, my feet dragging on the floor. Niall called out to my back but I ignored him, stepping into my room and closing the door shut behind me. I toed out of my shoes before collapsing onto my bed. I could hear Niall’s footsteps in the hallway, hovering outside my door, and I waited with closed eyes for him to knock. 

After a few moments had passed, I heard his footsteps slowly back away from my door. I let a puff of air leave my lungs, not even realizing I had been holding it, before turning over and curling up on my side. I dug my feet under the duvet, grabbing it and pulling it up around my neck, snuffling loudly as I tried to block out the last twenty four hours from my memory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiiiiiiiii guys!!! 
> 
> I know I'm terrible... and that you guys are going to be sooooo angry... but it had to happen! 
> 
> Thank you SOOOOOOOO much for all the comments and the reads on the last chapter! You guys are so fantastic and I adore you all SO much! I know the last chapter was rough, as was this one, and a lot of you did NOT see that coming... and I'd like to tell you that the next few chapters will get better, but... it's just gonna be rough for a little while. It _is_ going somewhere and it all has a purpose... but we'll just have to soldier through the next few chapters first! 
> 
> All that out of the way, **I have to give a OBSCENELY LARGE SHOUTOUT to these amazing people that brighten each and everyone of my days: Entice (My amazing babydoll that lives in the FUTURE.) LouisLoves (My fantastic WIFE who is finally hip to Twitter), BeautifulPeopleLarry, larrydirectionermcflied, alltimeimpossiblegirl, DiamondD (ILOVEYOU) and Clare! You guys are so amazing and I love you so much! I'll never be able to tell you how much I love you all!**
> 
> This chapter is dedicated to my one and only Ducky, who is _everything_ to me. She's put up with my drama over this story since day one, and put up with me and all of my shenanigans for almost 10 years. I know you read this story via email instead of on here, but if you ever stumble upon this, darling, when you're creepin' on here, just know that I LOVE YOU. That is all. 
> 
> The next chapter is _really_ intense but it's _good./ _So... just remember how much you love and trust me, guys!__  
>  BUT THAT WILL NEVER BE HALF AS MUCH AS I LOVE ALL OF YOU.  
>    
> Okay. I'm done. BYYYYYYYYYEEEEEEEEE  
> 


	15. Wallow

When my alarm went off at half six the next morning, I let it ring for a long time next to me before I even rolled over to turn it off. I fell back into the pillows, blinking up at the ceiling above me, mentally debating whether it was worth it or not to even get up. When my alarm went off fifteen minutes later, I had already decided that I was _definitely_ not getting up. I rolled over onto my side, grabbing my ringing phone from the bedside table and quickly shutting the alarm off. 

After turning the remaining two alarms off (One alarm would _never_ get me out of bed, even if I _wasn’t_ feeling miserable.) I let the phone drop carelessly beside me and rolled onto my back again. I pulled the duvet up further, shifting my barefeet around at the edge of the bed until they found a comfortable position. I let a puff of air leave my lungs, my eyelids still heavy from sleep, and listened as Niall shuffled around outside of my room; presumably getting ready for work. 

My phone buzzed next to me and I glanced over, reading Niall’s texts as they came in without so much as moving. 

_You up?????_

_Awfully quiet in there…._

_You are home this time right?_

I bit the inside of my cheek, mentally preparing myself for Niall to come bursting into the room at any moment. As if on queue, the door swung open and Niall stepped through, sighing loudly before speaking. “Thank God, I thought you fuckin’ disappeared on me again!” 

“Nope,” I replied dryly, looking away from him and back up the ceiling. 

“Well, come on then!” He clapped his hands a few times, reaching over to flip on the light switch. “Gonna be late for work!” I squinted my eyes shut, my eyes burning from the sudden light that filled the room. With my eyes still closed, I heard him walk over to the curtains and push them back, allowing the sunlight to come in to rape my eyes as well. 

“Mm not going,” I mumbled, fitting a pillow over my face. 

“The fuck you aren’t,” he said, pinching the end of the pillow and ripping it away from my face. 

I glared at him, “I’m a grown man. I’ll do whatever the fuck I want.”

“No.” He pointed a finger at me, “You have _no_ reason to skip work, other than to _wallow._ ” 

“Well, I can do that too.” I shrugged, “If I want to wallow, I’ll wallow.” 

“You don’t need to wallow, Lou.” He shook his head at me, though his expression was soft. “You _need_ to get up and go to work; get back to normal, you know?” 

“No,” I disagreed, “I need to wallow.” 

“Wallowing doesn’t solve anything.” 

“It helps.” 

“What’ll help is getting out of bed,” he countered, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Niall,” I huffed, “I’m not going. I’m allowed to wallow for a day.” 

“Lou…” 

“Please.” I closed my eyes, “Just go to work.” 

Silence. 

I opened my eyes and looked at him. He was standing, half dressed for work, with a deep frown across his face. I knew he was worried; I also knew that he didn’t know what it is I needed from him. So instead of saying anything else, he just continued to frown at me. We held our eye contact for a minute before he finally let a puff of air leave his lungs. “Fine.” 

He turned to leave the room, but I called out to him and stopped him. “Niall?” 

“Yeah?” He asked, his back turned to me and his hand hovering over the light switch. 

“I’m okay.” 

He turned his head over his shoulder, giving me one last look before flipping the lightswitch off and closing my door. I rolled over onto my side and pulled my legs up close to my chest, trying to find a comfortable position to go back to sleep in.

 

* * *

 

Later on that day, when I had only gone as far as relocating to the living room, my phone buzzed from it’s spot next to me on the couch. Sighing, knowing who it was without even having to look, I hesitantly picked up the phone and swiped it unlocked. I read the first three messages, that he had sent earlier in the day, before reading the last. 

_Can we talk? Please?_

_Lou… I really wanna talk about what happened yesterday._

_Please don’t ignore me._

_I don’t wanna leave things the we did._

I groaned loudly, not able to stay silent anymore, before picking up my phone and angrily swiping it unlocked. I was never going to be able to pretend that Harry didn’t exist if he didn’t stop fucking texting me. If it wasn’t such a hassle, I’d call my mobile company right now and change my damn number. I pulled up his text, angrily tapping out my response with my thumbs. 

**We have nothing left to talk about.**

_That’s not true. You never let me finish… you just ran off._

**Leave me alone, Harry.**

I watched with narrowed eyes as the typing bubble appeared next to his name, glaring at the phone as I waited for his response. After a few moments had passed, the typing bubble went away. I kept my eyes fixated on it, waiting for them to appear again, but after a minute or so had passed I realized that he must have finally gotten the hint. I turned the screen off, tossing it towards the end of the couch and staring blankly at the telly. 

Who the fuck did he think he is? 

As if it’s not bad enough that he didn’t like me back, now he was going to torture me by pretending to still care. I heard keys at the front door and a moment later Niall walked in, shutting the door behind him before coming into my view. I looked over at him, watching as he stopped dead in his tracks to stare at me. I quickly readjusted my eyes back on the television. 

“Is this what you’ve done all day?” Niall asked, setting his stuff down on the table and loosening his tie before slipping it off. I looked up from my spot on the couch again, raising an eyebrow at him as a response before fixing my eyes back on the telly. I scooted further down, my elbow propped against the cushion and my bum almost hanging off the edge, one of our throw blankets draped across my hips. Niall stared at me for another few moments before sighing loudly, “I’m fuckin’ starving. Pizza?” 

“Mmm,” I hummed, not even bothering to form words. 

Niall pulled his mobile out to order the pizza as he walked down the hall, disappearing out of my sight. I let a long breath of air leave my lungs, closing my eyes for a moment before focusing back in on my show. I stared blankly at the television, my eyes watching the show but the images never actually making it to my brain. 

“You missed an epic fight today,” Niall said, now changed into trackies and a green tshirt, as he made his way back into the living room. I looked over at him, watching as he picked up my mobile from the end of the couch and set it on the coffee table before sitting down in its place. 

“With who?” I asked, my tone dry as I looked away from him. 

“McQueen and that fucker from the fourth floor, what the fuck is his name?” 

I raised my eyebrows at him, “I’m gonna need a little more than that.” 

“You know,” he groaned, rolling his eyes. “He’s the guy that sits in on our quarterly meetings and always smells like mothballs?” 

“Tim Ricketts?” 

“Yes! That fucker,” Niall laughed. “He flat out told McQueen to go fuck himself! Right in front of the boss!” Niall cackled loudly, wrapping his arms around his stomach in the process. “It was fuckin’ hilarious! You missed it all!’ 

“What a shame,” I responded dryly. 

Niall sighed loudly, sitting back further into the couch and propping his legs up on the coffee table. I knew I was getting on his nerves, that much was obvious, and I also knew that he was trying his best to distract me from thinking about Harry.

Unfortunately for him, I didn’t think that was possible.

We sat in silence for a few minutes, my eyes focused on the telly but still unable to pay attention to what was happening. A knock on the door caused Niall and I both to look over in that direction, a confused expression across our faces. “The pizza’s here already?” I asked, watching as Niall stood and made his way over, stopping to grab his wallet from the table. 

I reached over and grabbed the remote, pausing our television show as Niall opened the door. 

“Is Louis here?” 

My eyes widened, recognizing Harry’s voice instantly. My heart began pounding immediately, the same way it always did for Harry, but this time it was in a different way. I quickly removed the blanket from my legs, standing up and taking the few steps down the hallway, trying to make it to my room as soon as possible. 

“Louis!” 

“Harry, stop!” Niall exclaimed as Harry pushed past him, walking quickly down the hallway after me. I slid into my room, slamming the door shut behind me, my breath coming out in harsh pants. I braced the palms of my hands against the door, Harry’s feet coming to a stop on the other side. 

“Louis, please.” His voice was soft and I closed my eyes tightly, leaning my entire weight against the palms of my hands. “Louis, please talk to me.” The thump against the wooden door led me to believe he had rested his forehead against it. I bit my bottom lip, trying to stop my breathing from coming out as hard as it was. I heard another set of footsteps come down the hall and I listened intently, my eyes opening and staring at the door. 

“Come on, mate.” Niall’s voice was quiet, “Just give him some space.” 

“No!” Harry exclaimed, “Louis! Please!” 

I held my breath, listening as Niall continued. “Harry, mate, what he needs is space…” 

“Louis, I know you can hear me…” His tone was quiet, but I could still hear every word. “Can we please just… please talk about this.” I stayed silent, breathing through my nose, listening intently for any movement from the other side. 

“Harry…” Niall warned. 

“Okay, okay. I’m going,” he said, his tone still just as quiet. “Lou, you… you know where I am when you wanna talk.”

“He knows.” Niall’s voice was snappy but just as quiet. 

“Okay,” Harry whispered, “Okay.” I heard him walk away from my door, and his soon as his footsteps were out of my earshot, I blew the air out of my lungs. I leaned forward, resting my forehead against the cold wood, my eyes pinched tightly shut as I willed my heartrate down. 

“Lou?” Niall asked, but I didn’t respond.

 

* * *

 

“Where are you going?” Niall asked, watching me as I opened the hall closet to grab the football. 

“To clear my head,” I responded, grabbing the football with both hands and kicking the closet door closed with my feet. I looked over to where Niall had sat up straighter on the couch, frowning at me but not protesting. “I’ll be back, okay?” I asked, raising both eyebrows at him. It had been a few hours since Harry had shown up at our flat, and I had spent the last few hours laying on my bed, staring up at the ceiling as I tried to figure out what I was going to do.

At this point, I knew I either had to do something _physically_ to get my mind off of him, or I was going to sneak up to the roof and swan dive off the edge. 

Clearly my first option was more reasonable. 

Niall slowly nodded, sinking back down into the cushions. I shot him a reassuring smile, even though we both know it was forced, before turning and heading out of the flat. I pulled the sleeves of my jumper down low as I headed down the stairs, the wind whipping through the stairwell and for a moment I thought about going back to get a thicker coat.

I decided to jog to the football field instead, for no reason other than to warm up, and once I got there I stopped at the breaker to turn the lights on. As the lights all powered on, slowly and making a loud humming noise, I looked around to make sure that nobody else was there. I dropped the football, giving it a kick out onto the pitch before grabbing the back of my hood and ripping the jumper off, leaving me in just my white tshirt with a black longsleeve underneath that.

I reached into my pockets and removed my phone and keys, dropping them into a pile on top of my jumper. I shook my hair out before running towards the ball, giving it another hard kick as I ran down the field, running hard enough to block out any thoughts I had of Harry. The harder and faster I ran, the less time my brain had to think; of anything except my burning muscles, at least. I stopped when I got to the other end, resting my foot on the ball for a moment before running again, going through drills that I hadn’t run since I was on my school’s team. 

I’m not quite sure how much time had gone by, but it was long enough to have broken a sweat, even in the cold winter air. My throat was dry and my legs hurt, my breathing unsteady and I thought for a moment about how out of shape I really had become. I used to run drills for hours every day and would still have enough energy to run home afterwards, but now I wanted nothing more than to call Niall to come and pick me up. 

And that’s exactly what I was going to do. 

I turned around, about to head back to my pile of stuff I had left on the sidelines, but when I looked up I noticed somebody standing next to the pile. I stopped dead in my tracks, the football rolling off in front of me as I stared at him. Harry was dressed in blue jeans, which was different from his normal skin-tight black ones, and had on a thick navy blue jumper. His hands were stuffed deep into his pockets and clouds were forming around his breath in the cold air. I hung my head, my hands placed on my hips as I was still catching my breath, wishing that I could magically make myself invisible to him.

Realizing that I had no other option than to face him, I made my way over to where he was standing, my pace slow as molasses. When I got closer to him though I sped up, abruptly bending down to scoop up all of my belongings in one go and attempted to push past him without saying a word. 

He was not having that, of course, and he quickly darted his arm out to stop me. “Lou, don’t run away from me.” 

“ _Please_ leave me alone, Harry,” I begged, my voice shaking and my eyes avoiding his, pulling my arm out of his grasp harshly. 

“No, I can’t.” He shook his head. 

“Why? Why not?” I angrily looked over at him, “What the hell else do you _possibly_ want to talk about?” 

He seemed taken back by my words, or by my tone I wasn’t sure, but he stumbled a bit before bringing his hands up to his hair and giving his curls a hard tug. I watched, frozen in my spot, as he did so before letting his hands drop and returning his gaze to me. “I-- I don’t know how to say it.” 

“Then we’re _done_ here,” I snapped, rolling my eyes and making a move to turn away from him again. He reached his arm out and grabbed mine again but I immediately shrugged him off, giving him a cold stare, “Stop fucking touching me.” 

“Stop running away then!” 

“Fuck you.” I replied instantly, my eyes cold as they glared into his. 

“Louis,” he huffed, shaking his head and biting down visibly on his bottom lip. “You… you…” he stammered, his mouth opening and closing as he searched for the words. “You _confuse_ me.” His eyes darted back over to mine, “You confuse the hell out of me.” 

“ _I_ confuse _you_?!” I exclaimed, “are you fucking _kidding me?_ ” 

“What--” 

“If _anybody_ has the right to be confused, Harry, it’s _definitely me._ ” I glared at him, my tone bitter and my word coming out just as harsh as I needed them to be. He looked away from me, shoving his hands back inside his jean pockets and staring down at his shoes. I folded my arms across my chest, pinning my jumper to my stomach, breathing hard as my heart pounded. 

“Louis, I-- I care about you in ways that… that I don’t care about people anymore.” He looked up at me, “In… in ways that I-- that I can’t explain.” He shook his head, his words coming out confused and his tone soft. I stayed silent, my eyes locked on him, chewing the inside of my cheek hard as I let his words sink in; trying to understand them.

“I-- I don’t let people in, Lou. I don’t… talk to people, or care about people, really… I just-- I…” He looked down, tearing his eyes away from mine, and mumbled the next part so quietly I almost missed it. “I care about _you_ though.” 

“Right,” I huffed. 

“I do.” He looked up at me again, “I-- I want to be your friend, Louis. I… I _need_ to be your friend.” I stared at him hard, the word ‘friend’ slicing through my already hurting heart, causing me to wince. “I-- I know I can’t be everything that you want me to be; I know that…” he said, his words coming out strong but his tone remained quiet. He looked down, “I’m _so sorry_ that I can’t be, but, I just--”

“Lemme ask you something then,” I cut him off, my eyes still narrowed at him. 

“Okay.” He nodded, visibly gulping and looking up to meet my eyes again.

“Why… did you try and kiss me?” 

Our remained locked as the seconds ticked past, his expression blank and he was breathing harder than before. He opened his mouth to speak but quickly shut it again, looking away from me and back to his feet. He brought one of his hands up to the back of his neck, staying like that for a moment before shrugging slightly, “I… don’t know.” 

“Hmm?” I pressed, determined to get an explanation out of him. 

“I didn’t.” 

“You most _certainly_ did!” I snapped, pointing a finger at him, causing him to look up. 

“I… I didn’t know what I was doing.” 

“You knew bloody well what you were doing!” I yelled, my finger still outstretched at him. “It happened three times!”

“I told you that you confuse me! _Fuck!”_ he exclaimed, bringing both hands back up to pull roughly on his hair. I huffed loudly, shaking my head as I looked away from him, unable to watch him pull his own hair out. I wrapped my arms around my stomach, our labored breathing being the only sounds around us. 

I finally looked back over at him, only to find that he had already been staring at me, a deep frown across his face and sadness in his eyes. “Harry.” I shook my head, letting another puff of air leave my lungs. “I don’t… want to confuse you, okay? That’s not what I want… at all. Just-- just leave me alone, please?” 

“I don’t want to leave you alone,” he said, his tone flat and his sad eyes burning into me. 

“But I need you to,” I insisted. “If you cared about me at all, you’d leave me alone.” 

He winced, “Don’t put that on me.”

“I’m not putting anything on you.” 

“Yes you are!” he exclaimed, his voice raising again. “You _know_ that I care for you! In ways that I can’t even fucking understand myself. Don’t give me that _‘cared for you at all’_ bullshit! Because that’s-- that’s all it is! It’s fucking bullshit!” He paused momentarily, if only to catch his breath, but I quickly butted in before he continued. 

“Well that’s just too fucking bad, Harry.” I shook my head, taking a step back from him. 

“No.” He shook his head as well, crossing his arms over his chest in protest. “I refuse.” 

“You can’t...refuse!” 

“I just did.” 

“Then you don’t care for me,” I whispered. 

“That’s a fucking lie and you know it!” he screamed. He reached down and grabbed my football, before whipping around and throwing it across the field as hard as he could, letting out another guttural yell in the process. When he turned back around to face me, his cheeks were flushed dark red and his lips were parted, sharp puffs of air leaving his lungs as he panted. 

“I--” I was taken back by his actions but I knew I needed to leave. “Bye, Harry.” 

I turned around, my back now facing him, and took a few steps away from him before he spoke up. “Louis… please don’t leave.” The desperation in his voice tore at my heart, but I knew I had to get out of there before my heart had time to break even further. 

I shook my head, unable to look back at him as I took another step away. “Please leave me alone,” I said, staring down at my shoes. I bit my bottom lip so hard I knew I drew blood but I forced my feet to keep moving. 

“I don’t want to lose you like I lost her!”

I stopped in my tracks, blinking down at my feet for a moment before slowly turning around. He had taken a few steps closer to me but once I was facing him, he stopped. He was panting still, a pained expression across his face, and I could see from where I stood that his hands were shaking. “Wh-- what?” I stuttered. 

“I--” he began, but paused instantly and shut his mouth. He took a deep breath in through his nose, his eyes closing while he held it, then opened them back up as he exhaled loudly. His hands were clenched into fists, probably to stop them from shaking, and I watched as he took a hesitant step towards me. “I was… eleven when I met her.” 

“Who?”

“Josie.” I blinked a few times, staring at his lip as it trembled. “She… she sat in front of me in maths and-- and I ended up failing that class because… because I just-- I just stared at her all day.” I watched as a sad smile formed across his face, his eyes darting down to the ground. “We-- we started dating when I was twelve.” He paused, crossing his arms low on his stomach and pinching at his sides. “Everyone, um, like… judged us? Because we were so young but like, I knew… I knew from the day I first saw her that I loved her.” 

I forced myself to swallow, gulping hard as I listened; I wasn’t expecting him to start telling me a story when I had turned around. 

“And the best part about it was that she loved me too.” He looked back up at me, the sad smile still spread across his features. “We dated all throughout school and, like… she was my world. I didn’t care about anybody else except, like… her.” This time it was his turn to gulp hard, “On my twentieth birthday… she told me that she was pregnant.” 

My eyes widened a bit, not expecting those words to come out of his mouth, but thankfully he wasn’t looking at me to catch my shocked expression. I breathed in deeply through my nose, pulling my mouth shut and biting the inside of my cheek, readjusting my stance as I listened. “And I know I should have been scared, and I-- I think I was on some level, but more than anything I was just… happy.” He flicked his eyes up to me, “Even though we were only twenty, I could like-- I could see it, you know?” 

I continued to look at him, my expression unchanging at his rhetorical question. “I could see our whole lives. The house we’d live in, the jobs we’d have, how amazing it’d feel to see my baby open their eyes for the first time or take their first steps… it was--” He paused when his voice cracked loudly. “It was everything I wanted.” 

He looked away from me again, his head hung low and when he finally looked back up his eyes were rimmed red and his lip was trembling again. I took a sharp breath in, my mind racing as I tried to think of anything to say. I took a hesitant step towards him, there still being about an arm’s length of distance between us, before choking out my next words. “What… happened?” 

“We went to this stupid… _stupid_ party.” His voice cracked again, “She didn’t want to go in the first place, but I dragged her along anyway… even though she was seven months pregnant at the time. I didn’t want to go alone so I, like, refused to leave her behind.” He shook his head, his eyes staring off somewhere behind me. “I drank _so_ much. I-- I don’t even know… why. I just kept drinking and drinking and--” He cut himself off, inhaling deeply through his nose. 

“She wanted to drive home, but… but I told her that I was fine.” My breath caught in my throat, suddenly realizing where this story was going. “She was so mad at me… mad that I dragged her there. That I drank so much. That I-- I don’t fucking know,” he shook his head. “Mad that I was the way I was.” 

“Harry--” 

“She yelled at me the whole time in the car,” he continued, a dry chuckle leaving his lungs though I knew it wasn’t from humor. His red eyes continued to stare anywhere but at mine, “She just kept yelling… and I was so drunk and _so mad_ that she wouldn’t stop _nagging_ at me.” His voice cracked again and he snuffled loudly, bringing his hands up to his puffy red eyes and fisting at them for a moment.

I felt like my heart was breaking; like I could physically feel his pain too. “I--I didn’t see the truck coming,” he squeaked, letting his hands drop back down to his side. “It fucking… it fucking came out of nowhere and… I… I swerved but… but I…” He let a loud sob leave his lungs as a single tear rolled down his cheek, bending forward slightly and bringing both hands up to his face. 

I instantly took a step forward, dropping my stuff to the ground and wrapping my arms around Harry. He flinched, stumbling back a bit out of my grasp and holding his arms out in front of him to stop me.. “Don’t,” he choked out, shaking his head furiously, his hands still holding me off. His hands came up to his cheeks as he angrily wiped at them, sniffing loudly and avoiding me at all costs.

“Harry, stop--” I reached for him again but he ducked out of my grasp once again.

“They died Lou! They both died!” he yelled, his voice cracking and another tear spilling over. “I walked away without a scratch and they both _died!_ ” 

“It-- it wasn’t your fault, Harry,” I whispered, my voice cracking as well as emotions ran through me.

“It _was_ my fault! _I_ was driving!” he exclaimed, his fingers wrapped around locks of his hair. “It _was_ my fault, it _was_.” 

“Harry,” I stammered, reaching forward and grabbing onto both of his wrists. He didn’t pull away but didn’t remove his fingers from his hair either, just let me hold onto his wrists as his breaths came out in sharp pants. There was so many things that I wanted to say, words to try and comfort him in his current broken state, but none of them ever made it to the tip of my tongue. I was still so shocked from everything he just revealed that I could do nothing but stand there helplessly, my cold fingers wrapped around both of his wrists. 

When his breathing finally began to steady, he slowly let his hands drop from his hair, my fingers letting go of his wrists in the process. His red eyes found mine and I winced, unable to process all the emotions that he was showing at once. We stood there for a few moments, just looking into each others eyes, before he shook his head and brought his shoulders up to wipe at his wet cheeks. He snuffled loudly, his nose scrunching up in the process, his eyes wandering somewhere over my shoulder. 

“That’s--that’s why I moved,” he whispered. “I couldn’t-- I couldn’t just stay in that town, with all our friends and-- and her family, all looking at me like I was-- like I _am_ a murderer.” 

“You’re not a murderer, Harry.” I whispered sternly at him, “It was an _accident._ ” 

“Yeah, well, it should have been me.” 

“Harry--” 

“It’s true,” he replied, all emotion gone from his voice and his eyes blank. 

“That’s not true.”

He shook his head, ignoring my statement and continued. “So after about a year, I packed up everything and moved here and _everything was going fine_ until _you_ stumbled up the stairs that night.” His tone softened, his eyes locking back onto mine. “You were… you were yelling loudly at the top of your lungs, chasing after Niall.” He smiled at me, but his smile was sad, like it pained him to relive it. “And it just-- it’s just changed since then.” 

I swallowed harshly, biting down on my bottom lip hard, my arms folded low across my stomach. He was avoiding my eyes again, his eyes looking anywhere but at me, “I don’t understand the way you make me feel, Lou.” 

“Harry.” 

He shook his head again, “You make me… like, happy. I-- I forgot what it was like to _be_ happy.” I swallowed again, gulping loudly as I stared at him. “But… I can’t be what you want,” he whispered. My heart dropped. “But don’t ever say that I don’t care about you… because I do.” His eyes finally met mine again, “And-- and you remind me of what-- what it was like before; before everything changed.” 

“I don’t… know what to say.” I whispered, speaking honestly. 

“What I’m trying to say is that…” he whispered, pausing for a long moment before continuing. “That I’m-- I’m straight. But you confuse me.” 

I sighed, my eyes squeezing shut as the words came out of his mouth, feeling like I’ve been hit with a ton of bricks. “I don’t want to confuse you, Harry,” I whispered. “I told you that and _I mean it;_ I understand that I’m-- that I live differently than you do… that I like things that you don’t. It’s nothing against you.” Our eyes locked again, “I’m not here to change you, Harry. But you have to understand that my-- that my feelings for you have always been different and _because of that_ I can’t just… be your friend.” 

“But I need you to be,” he whispered, our eyes avoiding each other. 

“But I can’t.” 

Silence. 

“Harry, you need to understand that-- that what happened in your past was _not_ your fault, okay? The same way that _this_ ,” I said, my arms gesturing out around us. “ _This_ is not your fault either. You can’t control things. You can’t control what happened in your past and you can’t control the fact that I’m-- that _you’re_ straight. So, let’s just… let’s just leave it, okay?” 

Silence. 

“I’m really sorry that you’re upset,” I whispered. “I just-- I thought there was more between us and that’s-- that’s my bad. I get it. But I’ll never be able to look at you as… just a friend.” My words came out slow, trying to be as gentle as possible given the situation. I knew that I was being incredibly insensitive but nothing he had said would change the way I felt about our situation. 

Silence. 

He was staring down at the ground, his hands back in his jean pockets, refusing to look up at me. 

“I’m gonna… go,” I whispered, reaching down to grab up my belongings. I hesitantly reached out and rested my hand on his shoulder, “Please don’t… don’t be upset about… about this.” He looked up, his expression stale and his eyes blank, blinking at me a few times. “About us, I mean… don’t-- it’s nothing that you could have changed.” I closed my lips, breathing in and out a few times before letting my hand drop from his shoulder. 

“I told you that I don’t want to lose you!” He exclaimed suddenly, “I told you everything! I told you everything that you’ve wanted to know since I first met you!” He yelled, his arms gesturing out wildly in front of him. “I don’t talk about this shit _ever_ and I told you anyway, Louis!”

I was taken back by his sudden outrage, a frown deep on my face when I whispered to him. “Harry…” 

“No!” he yelled, throwing his hands up in the air. “I _told you_ I didn’t want you to leave me and that’s exactly what the fuck you’re doing!” 

“Bye, Harry,” I whispered, taking a few steps backwards with my eyes locked on him. He was breathing hard, his hands held stiff at his sides and his eyes burning into mine. He didn’t say anything else though, made no move to reach out and stop me, so without another word I swiftly turned around and ran off the pitch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii guys! 
> 
> Pretty intense, eh?! I hope this chapter answers a lot of questions about Harry that I know you guys have! He hasn't been actin' like a damn mysterious tease for no reason! I hope everyone had a good weekend! Or, if you're in the US, a good LONG weekend! I definitely enjoyed my extra day and spent it writing like a mad woman! I have LOTS of new stuff for you guys and I'm SO EXCITED for you to read it! So expect a lot of updates very soon =) 
> 
> On that note, I am SO FUCKIN' EXCITED about all the responses and reads and overall LOVELINESS that you guys gave me on the last chapter! I was absolutely blown away, just like I am EVERY time and I really can't ever tell you guys enough how much I LOVE every single one of you! Thank you, thank you, thank you! **EXTRA THANK YOU to THESE WONDERFUL PEOPLE that left me such AMAZING comments: DiamondD, Entice (LOVE YOU, GIRRRRL), alltimeimpossiblegirl, Clare, fluffylouis, 1dloveme, 1dficsaremyfave, larrydirectionermcflied, BeautifulPeopleLarry, my BEAUTIFUL wife LouisLoves, jacktheminiatureslayer, niallersdirtymofo and finally, my wonderful Ducky who actually left a comment this time! =) I LOVE YOU ALL. ALL OF YOU. YES, YOU. EVEN YOU IN THE BACK.**
> 
> Happy reading, guys! SEE YOU SOON. BYYYYEEEEEEEEEEE.


	16. Hit Like A Bitch

By the time Friday rolled around, I was no better off than I had been at the beginning of the week. I was laid out on the couch, beer in hand, and was blankly staring at the television. I had put a movie in, hoping that would distract me, but instead I was lost in my own thoughts; as usual. Niall had tried to get me to go out to the pub with him after work, telling me that I had wallowed long enough and it was time for me to “Get back on that fuckin’ horse!” but I had swiftly declined. 

So instead I found myself here; the same place I had been all week. Curled up on the couch, alone and wishing I wasn’t, trying desperately to distract myself with some film or show. This week had dragged on so slowly. Of course I had to go back to work starting Tuesday, the company not allowing “I need to wallow!” as an excuse for the time off, and each day since then has been torture to me.

I thought about that night on the football field with Harry all the time. 

It was the only thing I could think about. 

I couldn’t get the image of Harry crying out of my mind. It was haunting my dreams, actually. I felt like a gigantic dick for leaving him on the field that night, but there comes a time when I have to take care of _myself_ and that was one of those times. If I had stayed there, I knew I would have forgiven him and accepted the fact we’d only ever be _just friends_ and then end up hating myself for it once I got home. 

When it came to Harry, there was no win or lose. 

I wasn’t “winning” this game now that we weren’t friends, because now I was stuck with memories of him and the image of him crying, begging me not to leave but me walking away anyway. 

I was certainly not “losing” the game either; because for the first time in a long time, I did what was _right_ for me. More than that, Harry was finally respecting that I had asked him to leave me alone; he hasn’t said one word to me since that night on the pitch and we have thankfully been able to avoid each other in the hall at all costs. 

But at the end of the day, like every day, I just felt broken. 

Like a part of me was missing. 

It was a feeling I couldn’t explain; even when I tried to explain it to Niall. I realized how crazy it sounded, especially because Harry and I have only known each other for about a month, but everything was always different with him. We became friends so quickly, texted every day, talked about nothing but everything at the same time.

I heard keys jingling at the door and a moment later Niall walked in. I watched as he put his stuff down on the table, unbuttoning his shirt and tossing it over the back of the chair, leaving him in just his trousers and a white undershirt. He looked over at me, smiled brightly, and said: “Hey, pretty!” 

“Hi,” I mumbled, bringing the bottle up to my lips and downing what was left. “Can you grab me another beer?” 

“A’course,” he responded, kicking his shoes off and heading into the kitchen. I heard the bottles clinking together after he had opened the fridge and a moment later he appeared in front of me, extending one of the bottles at me. 

“Thanks.” I forced a smile onto my face, twisting the bottle cap off and tossing it carelessly at the coffee table. Niall set another beer down on the table before heading off towards his room, presumably to change his clothes. I took a sip of the cold beer, readjusting the elbow that was propping me up and shifting my legs around at the end of the couch. 

“What’re we watchin?” Niall asked, returning from his room in shorts and the same undershirt, pausing to grab his beer from the coffee table. He lifted my legs up and plopped down onto the other end of the couch, resting my blanket covered feet back down overtop his lap afterwards. 

“The Departed.” 

“Right on!” he replied, twisting the cap off of his bottle and tossing it in the same direction I had. “This movie’s bad ass!” 

“Mhmm,” I hummed, bringing the beer back to my lips and taking a long sip. Niall shifted around on the couch, trying to get comfortable, but I kept my legs where they were; after all, I had been here first. We watched in silence for a little while after that, Niall was texting somebody with his left hand, the right hand that held his beer being draped over my ankles that were still in his lap. I stared numbly at the telly, my forehead leaning against my arm that I had bent up and my beer bottle hugged tightly to my chest. 

“You’ll never guess who I ran into at the pub tonight,” Niall said, after we had sat in silence for too long. 

“Barnes?” 

“Oh, fuck no!” Niall laughed loudly, “I woulda knocked his dumbass right out!” 

I rolled my eyes, craning my neck around to look at Niall. “Angelina Jolie?” I asked, my tone dripping with sarcasm.

“Do you really think,” Niall laughed, “that’d I’d be sittin’ here with _you_ if I had met Angelina Jolie at the pub?” He took a moment to laugh even harder, “I’d be tryin’ everything I could think of ta’ get into her pants right now!” I let a breath of laughter leave my lungs, shaking my head at him as I turned my attention back to the screen. “I bet she likes Irish accents.”

“Who doesn’t?” I chuckled. 

“Exactly!” he exclaimed, laughing again before taking another sip of his drink. 

“So? Who was it then?” I asked, after a few moments of silence had passed, craning my neck back to look at Niall again. 

“Harry.” He grinned at me. 

I sighed loudly, snapping my head back towards the screen. I chewed the inside of my lip for a moment before shaking my head, “I don’t care, Niall.” 

“I walked in and there he was! Just sittin’ there, all alone, cradlin’ a glass of summin’ like it was--”

“I said I don’t care!” I snapped, ripping the blanket off me and quickly standing up, slamming the beer bottle down on the coffee table before storming out of the room. I made it all the way to the hallway before Niall grabbed onto my arm, whipping me around and glaring at me. I instantly tried to pull my arm out of his grasp, but his fingers tightened before I could.

“Fuck you, Louis.” His words came out bitter and he kept his eyes narrowed at me. I stopped struggling instantly, taken back by his harsh words, able to tell by his tone that he wasn’t kidding around in the slightest. “I’ve been walkin’ ‘round on goddamn eggshells with you _all fuckin’ week_ and I’m fuckin’ sick of it!” He yelled, his fingers gripping my forearm hard enough that it might bruise.

“ _You’re sick of it?!”_ I exclaimed, “I’m the one who’s fucking depressed!” 

“You’re acting like a goddamn child! You need to _grow up!”_ he exclaimed.

My jaw dropped, “ _I_ need to grow up?! You’re the most immature person I know!” 

He threw his head back and laughed, though we both knew it wasn’t out of humor. “Just because I like to _enjoy_ my life,” he began, his eyes narrowed again at me and his words coming out spiteful. “Doesn’t mean that I’m _fuckin’ immature._ ” I glared at him, my lip twitching from anger. “ _I’m_ not the one cryin’ all week over some _stupid_ bloke who din’ want me!” 

Rage surged through me instantly and before I could stop myself, or think any better of it, my free arm cocked back and I brought my fist down on his jaw as hard as I could. He stumbled back, his hand letting go of my arm, then quickly balled up a fist and hit me across my right cheek even harder. My head flew to the side, yelping in pain as I stumbled back a few steps, my hand coming up to rest overtop my burning cheek. 

I looked up at him; we were both panting with one hand on our injured faces and were glaring hard at each other. I instantly turned and stepped into my room, slamming the door as hard as I could before taking a step back, my palm still resting against my cheek. I heard Niall throw something against the wall, yelling loudly at nobody, and I involuntarily flinched at the sound. 

A dry sob left my lungs, my breathing ragged and my right eye was shut tightly from the pain that was surging through my face. My lip trembled, my muscles all going haywire from the different emotions that were running through my body at top speed. I sat down on the edge of my bed and leaned forward, crossing both arms over my thighs and resting my forehead on them. My eyes burned and my hands continued to shake, the sharp pain in my cheek slowly fading into more of a dull hurt. 

Niall and I _never_ fought. We got sassy with each other all the time, and we definitely got on each others nerves, but he _never_ yelled at me like he just did and we had _never_ physically hurt each other out of anger. I don’t know what had caused me to punch him in the first place, but something had triggered in me and I snapped; it’s like I had watched myself take the first swing. 

I could hear him pacing in the hallway, muttering different obscenities to himself as he went, but I made no move to leave my room. I slowly sat up a little further, my elbows still on my thighs and leaned far over, but now staring at the door. My breathing was ragged and my heart was beating a million miles an hour, and I listened as Niall stormed out of the hallway and his footsteps disappeared. 

I let a sharp puff of air leave my lungs, my eyes still burning and the back of my throat constricting. I snuffled loudly, staring down at my hand as it continued to shake. I bit down on my bottom lip, replaying the scene that had just taken place over and over again in my mind. I heard Niall’s footsteps again and they were now hovering outside my door but he didn’t move. I breathed in and out, my breaths all coming out shaky, my eyes locked onto the carpet.

Finally the door opened but I refused to look up, still bent forward and staring at the ground beneath me, and it took a second for Niall to actually step into the room. He made a few hesitant steps forward before crouching down in front of me, gently resting his elbows on my kneecaps and pressing an ice pack to my already-swollen cheek. 

I winced, flinching my head back a little and letting my eyes fall shut; Niall unmoving and still lightly pressing the cold object to my cheek. I sniffled a bit, cracking my eyes open and letting them meet Niall’s. He had a frown etched across his face, his eyebrows furrowed, the sounds of our breathing being the only noise in the room. 

I sighed quietly, brushing his hand away from the ice pack and holding it there myself. He leaned back a bit, his elbows unmoving and his eyes locked onto mine. “You got a mean left hook, Horan.” I chuckled quietly, looking away from his eyes and down to my lap. 

“You don’t exactly hit like a bitch either,” he mumbled, laughing quietly as well. 

“I don’t remember the last time I hit anybody,” I said, holding the ice pack to my cheek with my fingertips. 

“Me either.” He laughed once, letting a puff of air leave his lungs. “I’m a lover, not a fighter.” 

“Mmm,” I hummed, looking back up to meet his eyes. “Sorry.” 

“I’m sorry too.” He sighed, readjusting his position so that he had his knees on the floor and was leaning back on his haunches, his hands now in his lap. “Lou, you can… you can treat anybody you want like shit, okay?” He looked back up at me, his words coming out soft. “You can never talk to Harry again for all I fuckin’ care… but don’t-- don’t cop an attitude with me when you’re mad at somebody else.” 

I nodded, “I’m sorry.” 

“You don’t have ta’ be sorry, Lou, it’s just… we’ve been through too much together for some dumb bloke to cause fights with us, ya’know?” 

“Yeah,” I whispered, nodding again. He patted my knee twice before getting up off the floor and sitting down next to me on the right; taking up the same position that I was sitting in. I peered over at him for a moment, noticing that the left side of his jaw was already swelling from where I had punched him. I pulled the ice pack away from my cheek and offered it out to him. He laughed once before taking the ice pack from me and pressing it against his jaw. 

“Can I tell you what happened at the pub?” Niall asked quietly. “Without you hitting me again?” He quickly added, laughing and looking over at me with raised eyebrows. I sighed but nodded all the same, looking back down to my feet as I waited for him to continue. “He’s fuckin’ miserable, you know.” 

“Yeah, well, so am I.” 

“I know you are,” he said, his tone gentle as to not provoke me any further. “But he’s _truly_ miserable. It took him a while to even talk to me,” he said. “But when he did, I could just tell… I could hear it in his voice Lou, he’s really… not doin’ so well.” 

“But that’s not my problem,” I whispered. 

“Yeah, but he cares about you a lot.” 

“Not enough.” 

“He’s confused, Lou.” 

“That’s _bullshit!_ ” I exclaimed, whipping my head over to look at him. “I’m so fuckin’ sick of that word; _confused._ That’s not a goddamn excuse for everything!” 

“You were confused once too, remember?” Niall asked, both of his eyebrows raised, his eyes staring into mine. I didn’t say anything, just blinked at him a few times, not knowing where he was going with this. “We were like, what… thirteen?” 

Silence. 

“You became really good mates with that kid? You know, the one that moved in a few streets over? What the fuck was his name…” 

“Alexander,” I whispered. 

“Alexander! Yes!” Niall laughed, throwing his head back slightly but I didn’t move, just continued to blink at him. Niall shook his head, another puff of air leaving his lungs when he was done laughing. “That was before, you know, ya came out to me. So you never told me about it, but I _know_ you loved that kid a lot,” he said, looking directly at me. “And I also know that you didn’t _think_ it was okay; the things you were feeling for him.” 

I breathed in deeply through my nose, tearing my gaze away from Niall and staring back down at my feet. “If I had to guess,” Niall continued. “That was the first time you ever really _allowed_ yourself to feel somethin’ for another bloke, am I right?” he asked, but I didn’t answer. “You were _confused_ , Lou. You din’ understand what was happenin’ or why you didn’t like girls. It took you a while to just… accept the fact that you weren’t _ever_ gon’ like ‘em.” 

“I didn’t know you knew all that,” I whispered. 

“Because you wouldn’t talk to me about it.” He shrugged, “I’ve known you were gay forever, babe. Probably longer than you’ve known yourself. I know we bicker a lot and that I take the piss with you about everything, but… but you’re my best mate and I know everything about you,” he said, his tone getting quieter with each word. “I see everything.” He sighed quietly, shaking his head. 

I looked over at him, biting down on my bottom lip harshly. He was staring down at the floor, wringing the ice pack between his hands, his elbows still rested on his knees. “I hurt when you hurt, Lou, and right now I’m fuckin’ hurtin’.” 

“That’s probably your jaw hurting.” 

“I’m serious, Lou.” He looked over at me, “I know you think that I’m immature and that I don’t ever care about anything--”

“Niall,” I murmured.

“--But that’s not true, because I care about you. I can read you like a book, mate. I knew about Alexander, I knew you were gay before you came out and I’ve known about your feelings towards Harry since day one; since I invited him into our flat that first night. I fucking knew all along.” 

“Niall.” I tried again but he was quick to continue. 

“I _know_ you, okay? I know that… that we-- that we’d be the perfect match if I was, you know… gay.” He said, whispering the last part and looking away from me again. I inhaled deeply through my nose, taking his words in. He was leaned far forward, his head hunched down low and was staring at the ice pack he still held between his hands. We sat in silence for a moment after that before he finally spoke up again, “Do you believe in, like… the fuck is it called… soul mates?” 

“I guess,” I said, shrugging slightly and looking back over at him. “Do you?” 

“Yeah,” he muttered, nodding slightly. “But, not in like the… traditional sense of the word.” He let the ice pack drop from his jaw again, wringing it around in his hands like he was before, his elbows still propped against his knees. “I think there really is one person for everybody; one perfect person that is like, your other half? Like if they weren’t there, ya’ wouldn’t be whole?” He looked over at me with a raised eyebrow. 

“Mhmm,” I hummed, wanting him to continue. 

“ _You’re_ that person for me, Lou.” He looked over at me and smiled shyly at me. 

“Awwww, Niall,” I cooed, reaching over and scratching at his scalp. 

“Fuck off,” he laughed, ducking his head out of my reach. “I’m tryin’ to be serious here!” 

“Okay, okay.” I smiled, letting my hand drop back down to my lap but keeping my eyes fixated on him. 

He was silent for a second before he continued, “Look, what I’m tryin’ to say here without bein’ too much of a romantic is that… that I love ya’ a lot and there’s no doubt in my mind that _you’re_ my soul mate. I just think that, like God or whoever-the-fuck, got confused somewhere along the way. Either you was ‘spose to be born a girl, or I was ‘spose to be gay; either way, somebody fucked up and we ended up being… this way.” 

“Mhmm,” I mused. 

“And I know that Harry _really does_ care for you… he made that very clear to me tonight at the pub.” He looked over at me again, gauging my reaction. 

“Niall.” I sighed quietly, shaking my head a bit. “I… I know he cares for me. It’s just… I’m sick of it. I’m sick of _confusing_ people or people havin’ to try and change their life for me.” I shrugged, “It shouldn’t be like that. I wish-- I wish I was just… normal.”

“Normal?” Niall repeated, “like straight?” 

“Yeah.”

“Fuck that,” he said, his face scrunching up in disgust. “Don’t ever fuckin’ say it like that.” 

“Well, it’s true.” 

“There’s nothing _ab_ normal about you likin’ blokes, Lou. It’s just the way you are; the way _lots of people_ are. There’s nothing _wrong_ about it. Don’t _ever_ think like that.” 

“But it’s _not_ normal,” I groaned. 

“Just because _some people_ don’t understand, and think that it’s somehow… like, morally wrong for you to like the same sex, doesn’t _make you not normal._ I don’t know why, in this day, people believe there’s only one kind of love-- but they’re fuckin’ wrong. If anything, you’ve proven to me how _completely normal_ it is.”

“How’s that?” I asked, avoiding his eyes. 

“Because, Lou. You’re not… you’re not some freak who only thinks about butt-sex all day long!”

“Niall,” I groaned. 

“You’re just like anybody else,” he continued. “You love and hurt and _feel_ just like everyone else does.”

“But do you understand how much easier life would be if I wasn’t like this?” I asked, my tone distressed as I looked over at him. “When you first meet a girl you don’t have to _worry_ about whether she likes lads or not, you just… assume! When you’re gay, you can’t just _like_ any guy without first wondering if they _like other blokes_ or not. It’s fucking annoying and irritating and--” 

“Louis!” Niall exclaimed, “just… stop.” I sighed loudly but shut my mouth, biting down on the inside of my cheek as I stared down at my hands. “I know this whole situation with Harry has… frustrated you and made you question yourself a lot.” He sighed, “But… just… fuck, I don’t know.” He brought his hands up and ran his fingers through his hair a few times, resting the ice pack on the bed between us. 

“I’m tired,” I said, after we had sat in silence for another minute or so. 

Niall nodded, picking back up the ice pack and offering it out to me, wordlessly asking if I wanted to keep it. I shook my head, waving him off and he nodded again before standing. I looked up at him from my spot on the end of the bed and we held eye contact for a moment. 

He sighed, bending back down and placing a quick kiss on my cheek, “Love ya’, baby-cakes.”

 

* * *

 

After Niall had left my room, I had tried my best to go to sleep. I really was exhausted, both mentally and physically, from my fight with Niall and from my life in general. I had laid in my bed for a long time, just staring up at the ceiling and trying to will myself to sleep, but after a few hours had gone by I gave up. 

I was leaned up against the headboard, my laptop over my legs and earbuds placed in both ears, trying desperately to distract myself with Netflix. I thought I heard something come from the other room, so I reached up and pulled one of the earbuds out, trying to see if I could hear the noise again. I hit the spacebar on my laptop, pausing my show, and right as I did I heard the knocking sound again. 

I clicked the home button on my phone, the screen lighting up and the clock displaying _3:18_

Thinking that maybe it was Niall making noise from his room, even though I had sworn he had gone to bed after leaving my room, I replaced the earbud and reached forward to unpause my show. Right as I did, the knocking sound came through even louder than before. I set my laptop down next to me, removing both earbuds in the process, and quickly stood; realizing that somebody _really was_ knocking on our door. 

I grabbed a pair of plaid pajama bottoms that had been discarded onto the floor, and as I made my way down the hallway I hopped on each foot to pull them up. I flicked on the light in the living room when I passed, unlocking the top lock on the door before hesitantly cracking it open. 

Harry. 

I sighed, taking in his current state. He was dressed in his black tight jeans again, a thick grey jumper and his hair was sticking out all over the place. He looked up at me, his eyes bloodshot and glossy, and I noticed he was leaning a bit to one side. I opened the door a little wider, about to say something when he slurred out, “Louis!” 

My eyes widened a bit-- he was definitely drunk. 

“Shh,” I hushed, stepping out into the hall and propping the back of my foot against the door, keeping it cracked so it wouldn’t lock. “Are you… drunk?” 

“Yes.” He nodded, his eyes slowly traveling down my bare torso to where my pajama pants started. I wrapped my arms low around my stomach, suddenly feeling self-conscious at the way he was staring at me. “Are you?” he asked, raising a drunken eyebrow at me. 

“...No.” I shook my head, “Harry-- it’s really late.” 

“I know,” he slurred, “but I had to talk to you-- oh my god! Your face!” he cried, reaching forward and gently touching my cheek. I winced, the pressure too much for my swollen cheek, and instantly pulled away from him. “What-- what happened?” he asked, his eyes wider than they would normally be because of how drunk he was. 

“Nothing,” I said, shaking my head. 

“You were-- were punched?” he slurred. 

“No.” I shook my head again, “Don’t worry about it.” 

He reached forward again to try and touch my cheek and I instantly ducked my head out of his way, causing his hand to fall back to his side. I looked over at him again and he was frowning deeply, “Who punched you?” 

“Nobody, Harry.” I snapped, causing him to frown harder. “Harry,” I whispered, partly because it was the middle of the night, partly because I wasn’t expecting to be talking to him. “You-- you haven’t even talked to me all week.” 

“Because,” he said, blinking his eyes more than necessary. He pointed a finger at me, “ _You_ told me not to.” 

“And… I meant it,” I said, my tone soft. I shivered and wrapped my arms tighter around my stomach, cold down to the bone already from being without a shirt. He drunkenly reached behind him, grabbed onto the hood of his jumper and swiftly pulled it off before I could stop him, leaving him in just a black Rolling Stones tshirt. 

“You-- you’re cold.” He shoved the jumper at me, but I made no move to grab onto it. 

“I’m fine, Harry.” 

He looked down and stared for a moment before looking back up, his head falling back a bit as if it was too heavy to hold up. “I-- I bet your feet are cold too,” he slurred. “Always cold-- feet always cold-- always…” he paused, seeming like he had confused himself. “Cold,” he muttered, shaking his head again before pushing the jumper at me again. 

“I don’t need it,” I whispered. 

“Always so-- so not needing of-- of anything,” he rambled, not making much sense. He brought his hand out in front of him, the jumper now balled up and pinned to his side, and began counting off on his fingers. “No jumper, no slippers.” He pulled on his fingers with his other thumb as he counted. “No tomatoes, no bike, no… no…” he stammered, trying to come up with the fifth one. I blinked at him, not knowing how I was supposed to even respond to that. “No brothers!” He finally exclaimed, “Just sisters. Six sisters-- no! Seven sisters… six sisters? I don’t remember.” 

“Harry,” I whispered, trying to get him to stop. 

He shook his head, going back to holding just one finger out as he started a second list. “No coffee, no able… no being--” he slurred, pausing for a moment when he confused himself. He nodded, finally finding the right words in his head, “ _Not being able_ ,” he corrected, pausing to grin at me as if he had won the game. “To cook anything but break-- breakfast.” 

“Harry.” I whispered at him again, another shiver running up my body as a gust of wind tore through the hallway. He seemed shocked by this, as if he hadn’t realized until just then that I was cold, and quickly grabbed the balled up jumper and shoved it at me again; trying to get me to take it from him. I frowned at him, shaking my head no, then watched as he pulled the jumper away and pinned it against his side again. He stumbled a bit, even though he hadn’t tried to move, and he held out his other hand to steady himself. 

“No socks,” he continued, “no tomatoes-- wait,” he stopped, looking confused again. “I’ve said those?” 

“Yeah,” I whispered, nodding slightly. “Harry, how much did you drink?” 

“Errmm…” he trailed off, “a lot?” 

“Why are you here?” I asked quietly. 

“I live here.” 

“No.” I shook my head, “Why are you _here?”_ I gestured with my hand in between us. 

“Oh,” he said, his mouth sticking in that position for a moment. “Because… I miss you.” I sighed quietly, tearing my gaze away from him and staring back down at the floor. Another gust of wind blew through and I shivered again, adjusting my position so that my other heel was holding the door open and I was now standing on my right leg. “Can you, just, please?” he slurred, trying again to hand me his jumper. 

Sighing, I reached out and grabbed the jumper from him, knowing that he wasn’t going to let it go. I held it against my torso, making no move to put it on, and I could feel his eyes on me. I wrapped my arms around my stomach again, the jumper pinned to my abdomen and smelling of Harry. We stood in silence for a moment, neither of us knowing what to say, and I kept my eyes averted from his. 

“I wish you-- that you didn’t-- maybe too?” 

“What?” I looked up at him with a raised eyebrow, not understand what he was saying that time. 

“I wish _that you didn’t_ hate me too,” he said, his words coming out slow and rolling his eyes afterwards as if it was _crazy_ of me to not understand him the first time around. I chewed the inside of my cheek, breathing in deeply through my nose as his words sank in. 

“I don’t… hate you, Harry,” I whispered. “I told you… I told you why we can’t be friends. That doesn’t mean I _hate you.”_

“You do,” he said, nodding and looking away from me. “It’s s’okay. Everybody hates me.” 

“No they don’t,” I said, my voice quiet, looking up at the side of his face. He was staring at something towards the end of the hall, his cheek turned to me, and he was visibly chewing on his bottom lip. “Harry, you’re… really drunk. I think it’d be best if you… went to bed.” 

“Yeah,” he nodded, his tone dry. He looked back over to me, his bloodshot eyes now heavy lidded. “I just-- I had to tell you.” 

“Tell me what?” 

“That I missed you.” He rolled his eyes. “I knew you wouldn’t, like, read it-- if text? So I had… had to say it to your face-- _your face!_ ” he exclaimed. “Who hit you?” 

“Nobody hit me, Harry.” 

“Somebody hit you,” he whispered, staring hard at my cheek. “I’ll hit them.” 

“No you won’t,” I said gently. 

“I would.” He sighed, “For you I would.” 

I gulped. 

“I’m-- I’m going to bed,” he slurred, taking a step backwards towards his door. 

“Here,” I said, pushing the jumper back towards him. He held both of his hands up, palms facing me, and shook his head no furiously. 

“No, you keep it.” 

“I-- I don’t want it, Harry.” 

“It’ll… keep you warm,” he said, blinking sadly at me. I gulped again, slowly nodding and we held eye contact for another moment before he turned around and struggled to unlock his door. He slipped inside and let the door close without looking back at me, and I stood there for a moment before pushing my door open with my heel and stepping back inside. I closed the door and turned the deadbolt, standing there for another moment before turning around and heading back down the hallway, his grey jumper held tightly in my hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiiiiiiiiii guys! 
> 
> I feel like I just repeat the same things over and over in these notes, but I really am SOOOOO thankful for EACH AND EVERY ONE OF YOU! Y'alls response to this story, in reads/comments/bookmarks and kudos, REALLY make me SO happy! Even on days when I feel like absolute crap, you guys can still make me smile! 
> 
> How is everybody's week going? It snowed SOOOO MUCH here and I am SO PROUD of my car (Mike Lowrey. Yes, that's his name.) and his ability to drive in all of it! He's a champion and got me to and from work LIKE A BOSS. What did everybody think of this chapter? This is actually one of my FAVORITE chapters that I've written so far. I absolutely LOVE Niall's character in this, especially the way he takes care of Louis. I'm so happy with how this chapter turned out and all the emotion that came along with it; so, what'd YOU think?
> 
>  **HUUUUUUUUUUUUUGE LOVING SHOUTOUT to these AMAZING PEOPLE that took time to leave me such wonderful comments! Niallersdirtymofo, London_calls, JJ, DiamondD, Yenssy, jacktheminiatureslayer, Entice (You mean the world to me!) and my FANTASTIC WIFE who I love very much, LouisLoves. Also big shoutout to my roommate/bestie who proofs my chapters for me, makes me dinner almost every night, keeps me entertained at work and listens to me gush about HOW MUCH I love ALL OF YOU. So. You know. That.**
> 
> I really do love you all! I'll be updating again on FRIDAY, which thankfully is not that far away. Because, I don't know about you, but I'm ready for the damn weekend. Okay, I'm done rambling. BYYYYYYYYEEEEEEEE.


	17. One Week

So far, this week had been… strange, to say the least. Ever since the drunken conversation that Harry had with me on Friday night, he hadn’t said a word. No texts, no phone calls, and we had somehow managed to avoid each other in the hallway again. But all communication wasn’t lost on us, because what he had started doing in _place_ of those things, was _doing_ things for me.

Buying me things. 

Things that I never asked for.

This new trend of his started out small on Monday, an innocent little gesture, but with each day they had escalated; bringing us to today. Thursday. I stood in my living room, _glaring_ at the red object that leaned against my dining room table, _brooding_ internally at him. 

“Is that…?” Niall asked, raising an eyebrow and cocking his head to the side, staring at the item as well. 

“Yeah.” 

“And he…?” 

“I sure as fuck didn’t buy it!” I glared at Niall. 

“But you can’t…” 

“Yeah.” 

“Does he… know that?” 

_”Yeah.”_

“But he…”

“Yup.” 

“Wow.” 

“What the fuck am I supposed to do with this?” I exclaimed, glaring over at Niall. “Who the fuck does he think he is?” 

“I think he’s just… trying to be nice, mate.” 

“Fuck that,” I muttered. “Fuck him.” 

“This all… escalated quickly.” Niall let out a breathy chuckle, nodding his head over towards the table. I let a loud sigh leave my lungs, crossing my arms over my chest as Niall’s words replayed in my head. Things _definitely_ had escalated, and I couldn’t help but replay all that had happened this week in my head.

**Monday:**

I had missed my first few alarms that went off that morning, causing me to be late getting ready for work. Niall had texted me that he was leaving without me and would see me at work, to which I groaned about but continued getting ready for work regardless. I took one last look in the mirror, straightening out the black tie that was around my neck, before flipping the light off and leaving the bathroom. 

I stood at the dining table, putting all of my stuff into my pockets and shrugging on a thick peacoat. It had snowed all through the night and I knew it was going to be bitterly cold outside. I put on my shoes, lacing them up quickly before grabbing my briefcase and heading out the door. It was _definitely_ cold outside and while I locked up our flat I was already internally bitching about having to clean the snow off my car. 

I headed down the stairs, avoiding the small patches of ice that were on each landing, and made my way out towards the parking lot; cursing loudly to myself as I stepped through the piles of snow on the path. I rounded the corner, my black car coming into sight, and I stopped in my tracks when I saw it. 

The snow had all been brushed away from the top of my car and the ice on the windows had all been scraped off. 

Somewhat confused, but smiling all the same, I unlocked the car and sat down behind the wheel, pausing to turn the car on before fishing my mobile out of my pocket. I unlocked the phone, pulling up my stream of text messages with Niall before tapping out my message with my thumbs, shivering slightly as I waited for the car to heat up. 

**Did I ever tell you how much I fuckin’ love you?**

_Yes… but it’s always good to hear, sweet-cheeks!!!_

**I woulda been SUPER late if you hadn’t cleaned me car off! LOVE YOU!**

I set the phone down on the seat next to me, pulling on my seatbelt and shifting the car into gear. I was about to pull out of the space when my phone beeped again. I looked over at the seat and raised an eyebrow at the phone, picking it up to read it fully when I was confused. 

_Oh. Well. I’d like to take credit for this one, babydoll… but it wasn’t me._

I chewed on my bottom lip for a minute, typing out: **Well, if it wasn’t you then** before stopping and sighing loudly. I shook my head, backspacing the message away and set my phone back down. I knew the only other person that would have cleaned my car off would be Harry. I sat there for another minute, chewing the inside of my lip before shaking my head and driving out of the space. 

**Tuesday:**

I stared at my computer screen, leaning far back in my chair, my eyes bleary from looking at excel sheets all morning. It was around noon and I was behind on one of my deadlines, causing more stress than necessary to course through my veins. I could hear Niall tapping a repetitive beat out onto his desk with his fingertips and at this point it was driving me crazy. 

“Can you stop that?!” I barked, bringing my hands up to my hair. 

“Fuck off,” Niall responded, his tone casual and his fingertips still tapping against his desk. 

I groaned loudly, about to throw something over into his cube to try and get him to stop, but my desk phone ringing stopped me before I could find something to throw. Groaning again, I reached forward and grabbed the receiver, pushing it to my ear before speaking. “Louis Tomlinson.” 

_“Louis, it’s Janie. Your food’s here.”_ The receptionist’s voice came through the other end. 

“My food?” I asked, “I didn’t order food.” 

_“Um… well… the delivery man said it was for you? Um… hold on,”_ she said, her next words coming out muffled. _“What was the name on it again? Tomlinson, right?”_ There was a long pause before she came back, her words clear again. _“Yeah, it’s for you.”_

I chewed the inside of my cheek for a moment, confused as ever, before responding. “Okay… I’ll, um, be right down.” I thanked her before hanging up, scooting my chair back and standing. “You didn’t order food, did you?” I asked over the cubicle wall, picking up my blazer from its spot on my desk and grabbing my wallet from the inner pocket. 

“Nah, mate.” Niall responded, his damn fingers still tapping on his desk. 

“Weird,” I muttered, stepping out of my cube and walking towards the lift. Once I made it to the ground floor, I walked over to the reception desk and greeted the delivery man that was waiting. “I think there’s been a mistake.” I apologetically smiled, “I didn’t order any food.” 

“Look, man, the name on it is Louis Tomlinson. Is that you?” 

“Yeah, but--”

“Well, then this is for you.” He shrugged, handing me a white plastic bag. “Was told to deliver it at exactly noon. Chicken sandwich on wheat; no tomatoes, extra onions,” he said, shrugging again before reaching into his coat pocket to grab the receipt. “Just need your signature.” 

I blinked a few times before nodding, switching the bag over to my left hand and taking the pen from his outstretched hand. I set the receipt down on the desk, pinning it down with my finger and was about to scribble my name on the printed line when the credit card information caught my eye. With the pen hovered over the signature line, I squinted to make sure I was reading it correctly. 

_Visa XXXX-XXXX-XXXX-9032  
HARRY E. STYLES _

I took a deep breath in through my nose before scribbling out a [forged] signature and handing the slip back to the delivery man. “Thank you,” I said, smiling slightly before turning around and heading back towards the lift. 

**Wednesday:**

I was sitting on the kitchen counter that afternoon, absentmindedly eating crisps from the bowl next to me, staring down at my phone as I scrolled through Twitter. We had just gotten home from work a little while ago, and after searching through the kitchen for a while, I finally gave up and grabbed a bag of crisps to eat instead. That’s how I ended up here, at least. 

Niall had gone back downstairs to check the mail, realizing that it had been days since we last checked, and when he returned he sang out to me. “Loooooouieeeeee, your parcel came!” I looked up when he rounded the corner, raising a confused eyebrow at him and my eyes locked on the Amazon box in his hand. 

“I didn’t order anything,” I said, staring at the black letters on the side of the box. 

He shrugged, “Has your name; not mine.” 

I nodded, still confused but set my phone down regardless, holding my hands out in front of me. Niall tossed the box at me, then sat down at the dining table to finish going through the letters. I flipped the box around in my hand, examining it, before pulling open the drawer to my right and grabbing a knife from it. I slid the corners open, set the knife back down, then ripped the rest. 

I sighed as soon as I saw what was inside, causing Niall to look over at me. “What is it?” he asked. I reached into the box and pulled out the blu ray disc, turning the label around to show him. “What the fuck is it with you and the goddamn Lion King all of the sudden?” 

“I didn’t order this,” I said, shaking my head at him. He raised an eyebrow at me, then his lips went in the O position as it clicked in his head. I sighed loudly, tossing the blu ray down onto the island in front of me. I was about to throw the box towards the bin when I saw a white slip at the bottom of it. I grabbed it, turning it around to read the printed card. 

_Because everyone needs to own a copy.  
-H_

“For fucks sake,” I said, crumpling the card up and throwing it, along with the box, at the bin. 

“That’s the third day in a row, innit?” 

“What?” I asked, looking over at Niall.

“That he’s like, done something…” 

“Yup,” I replied, my tone dry and my expression blank. 

“Wonder what tomorrow will be…” Niall grinned at me. 

I shook my head from my thoughts, coming back to reality when this week’s events had finished playing out in my head. I stood in the living room still, Niall standing next to me munching on an apple, our heads both cocked to the side as we stared at the red bike that was leaning against the dining table. 

“It’s like, a slap in the fuckin’ face,” I mumbled, shaking my head. 

“Why’s that?” 

“Because!” I whined, “I told him that I never learned how to ride a bike… and he goes and fuckin’ buys me a bike. That’s not what I want! I don’t just _want him to buy me a bike!_ What’s the fuckin’ point in having one if you don’t even know how to ride it!” 

“I could teach you.” Niall shrugged. 

“That’s not the point,” I groaned. 

“I think it’s sweet,” Niall said, grinning over at me. 

“No.” I shook my head, “It’s not sweet. It’d be sweet… if we were dating and he bought me a bike so he could teach me. This? This is not sweet.” 

“Whatever,” Niall rolled his eyes, stepping away from me to throw his apple core into the bin. “Ya know what it reminds me of?” he asked, opening the fridge to grab a can of soda. I looked over at him and raised both eyebrows, silently asking him what. “It looks like… like, you remember that kid Lionel? Who lived ‘cross the street? It kinda looks like his bike.” I narrowed my eyes at him, my expression stale. “That kid was talk of the town.” 

Without saying another word, I quickly stepped forward and grabbed the bike by it’s handle bars, pushing it out of the dining room and towards the front door. I stepped around it, opening the door and pulling the bike roughly behind me, hitting the door frame multiple times in the process. Anger was coursing through me as I let the bike fall carelessly to the ground, dusting my hands off on my jeans before knocking harshly on Harry’s door. 

It took a moment, but eventually the door opened up to a surprised looking Harry. “Lou--”

“What the fuck is this?” I yelled, stepping back and gesturing at the fallen-over bike. 

“Um… it’s-- it’s a bike,” Harry stammered, blinking a few times at me. I glared at him, at his stupid white vneck and his stupid black jeans; at his stupid curly hair and the way it poked out from underneath his grey beanie. “You-- you don’t like it?” he asked, frowning. 

“No I don’t like it!” I exclaimed, “why are you doing this to me?!” 

“Doing… what?” 

“This!” I yelled, waving my hands around in front of me. “All of this! Buying me shit! Doing nice things for me! Why the fuck are you doing this?!” I was breathing heavy and he was clearly taken back, probably assuming that my reaction would have been much different. “I told you to leave me alone, Harry!” I screamed at him, “Why?! Why can’t you just leave me alone?!” 

“Because,” he said, pausing to swallow harshly. “I can’t just… let you go.” 

“Well, you have to!” I snapped. 

“But… I can’t,” he whispered. 

My jaw dropped, “You don’t have a _fucking_ choice!” 

“Lou--” 

“Don’t,” I huffed, shaking my head as I took a step back from his door. “Just leave me alone!” I turned around, taking another step towards my flat door but I could hear Harry take a step forward. He suddenly grabbed onto my forearm, forcefully yanking me back towards him. I turned around, more angry than I had been before, but before I could do anything he surged forward and pressed his lips firmly against mine. 

I instantly stumbled back, pulling away from his grasp, holding my palms out in front of me and breathing hard. He looked just as shocked as I was, standing with his lips parted and harsh puffs of air escaping from them. I blinked at him, my heart slamming against my chest, forcing myself to swallow the lump in my throat. We stared at each other for another second, my hands shaking and watching as he bit down on his bottom lip. 

I took a step forward, grabbing his cheeks with both of my palms and slamming my lips against his. He stumbled back a bit but quickly recovered, snaking one arm around my back and the other up around my neck, pulling me tightly against him. We kissed furiously, my eyes squeezed shut and my palms still flat on his cheeks. He stumbled back a bit and I blindly took another step forward, stumbling slightly when my toe ran into the doorjam. 

I broke the kiss, looking down for a split second to step over the door frame, my hands falling from Harry’s cheeks and resting on his shoulders. I looked back up, our faces so close to each other that I could feel his breath across my lips. We locked eyes again, his arms unmoving from their previous positions, before he leaned back in to capture my lips again. 

We blindly stepped further into his flat, the hand that had been cradling my head momentarily leaving to push the door closed. Our kiss broke for another split second as he turned us, pushing me hard up against the wall before returning his lips to mine. I moaned into the kiss, bringing my hands up and pushing the beanie off his head, threading my fingers through his curls as he pushed his body flat up against mine. 

His lips trailed from my mouth down to my neck, the back of my head falling against the wall behind me as his lips went further down. I fisted at his curls, my hips arching up into his as his lips connected with my collarbone, sucking harshly at the sensitive skin there as one of his hands pushed my hips back against the wall. I pulled his head back up by his hair, reattaching our lips in a needy kiss, not ready for him to be away from me yet. 

With one hand still digging into my hip bone, he brought his other arm out to brace on the wall next to my head. He sucked my bottom lip into his mouth, causing another moan to escape before I could stop it. My whole body felt like it was on fire, my brain fuzzy and unable to think of anything except all the different places he was touching me. His mouth left mine, trailing back down my neck and resuming the work he had been doing on my exposed collarbone. 

“Harry,” I said, puffing out loudly through my nose. My eyes rolled back and my head went against the wall again, my hips trying desperately to roll into his. “Fuck,” I groaned, opening my eyes again when his lips pulled away from my collarbone. He brought his face back up close to mine, panting harshly and our eyes locking. He slowly dropped the hand that had been braced on the wall to my other hip, his fingertips digging into the skin there for a moment before he snaked his fingers underneath my shirt; his cold fingers coming in contact with my flushed skin. 

I leaned forward, capturing his lips with mine again, dropping my hands from his hair and gripping onto his biceps; my insides burning with every swipe of his thumb on my lower stomach. I let my hands fall from his arms, reaching down and grabbing the hem of his tshirt. “Off,” I said, in between our rough kisses. He pulled away from me, tugging at the back of his shirt before ripping it over his head. 

I swallowed harshly, letting my fingers run down his chest and stopping at his waist. He looked down, watching as I ran my fingers back and forth on his lower abdomen, his hot puffs of air hitting against my neck in the process. I looked down as well, able to see the outline of his cock through his tight jeans, and I forced myself to swallow the lump in my throat again. Our eyes met again and I kissed him once before pushing off the wall and turning us, pressing him up against the wall by his shoulders. 

I sunk down to my knees, reaching forward with both hands and fumbling with the button of his jeans. His hands came down overtop of mine, quickly grabbing my fingers and stopping their movements. “Lou-- I… I’m--” he panted, his fingers shaking against mine. I looked up at him from my spot on the floor, raising an eyebrow at him. “I’ve never-- done this.” 

I blinked at him a few times, confused by his words. “With-- with a…” 

“Right.” I grinned, realizing that he was trying to tell me he had never done this with a _guy_ , before swatting his fingers out of the way and unbuttoning his jeans. “Trust me, it feels just as a good.” He took a shaky breath in, his eye glued to me as I slowly pulled the zipper down, bringing my hands back up to push the waistband down. I pushed the jeans down to his ankles, the tight black briefs doing little to hide what was underneath them. I inhaled deeply through my nose, leaning forward and mouthing over his clothed cock for a moment before looking back up at him. 

He had his head thrown back against the wall, his eyes squeezed tightly shut and his hands threaded through his hair. His chest was rapidly rising and falling as he panted, and when I tucked my fingers underneath the waistband of his briefs his eyes flew open. He looked down at me, his pupils blown wide and his cheeks flushed a dark red. 

“Do you… do you want me to?” I asked, my fingers still tucked into his brief but my arms unmoving. 

“Fuck,” he groaned, “Fucking-- yes, yes I do.” He nodded three times quickly, blinking wildly at me. I grinned, pulling his briefs down and letting his cock spring free. I licked my palm once before wrapping it around him, tugging gently as I stared up at him. He moaned loudly, his head rolling side to side against the wall, one of his hands reaching down to tangle in my hair. 

I licked my lips once before leaning forward and wrapping them around the head, rolling my tongue around twice before sinking down further. “Fuck-- Jesus-- holy shit,” Harry cursed, causing me to let a puff of air leave my nose, grinning as much as I could; given the situation. His hand fisted at my hair harder as I bobbed up and down, my free hand cupping him underneath. 

“God-- fuck-- your fucking mouth,” Harry moaned loudly, bucking his hips up further into my mouth. I laid my palm flat against his abs, pushing him back against the wall so he couldn’t buck up again, knowing that I would gag if he did. “Sorry, shit-- fuck, Lou,” he groaned. “Stop, stop, you gotta stop!” He exclaimed, tugging gently on my hair to pull me off. 

I popped off of him, looking up at him as my left hand took over, swallowing harshly as I looked up at him. Still lazily stroking him, I raised a questioning eyebrow up at him. “I’m-- I’m not gonna last,” he shook his head, his whole body flushed now and sweat dripping from his forehead. 

“That’s kinda the point,” I said, smirking at him. 

“I-- I-- “

“Shh,” I hushed him, rolling my eyes before replacing my mouth on him. 

“Fucking-- shit,” he cursed, banging his head back against the wall. I let my right hand travel down from his abs to the top of his thigh, feeling the muscles twitch underneath me as he began to come undone. “Shit, shit, shit.” He kept mumbling different obscenities, my head bobbing up and down faster when I could feel him tense up in my mouth. “Fuck Louis!” He cried, finally letting go. 

I mouthed him up and down a few more times, getting him through it, before pulling back and swallowing harshly. I kept my left hand on him, blinking up at him and his expression; never wanting to forget how amazing he looked in that moment. I didn’t have time to enjoy it though, because keys were jingling from the hallway and Harry’s eyes flew open. 

“Shit! Go! Go!” He exclaimed, pulling me up by my arm with one of his hands and grabbing his jeans with the other, pushing me in the direction of his room. I stumbled, my heart racing, letting him push me down the hallway as I heard the front door open. He slammed his bedroom door, leaning back against it, his jeans barely pulled up to midthigh. 

I stumbled back a few steps, my heart pounding, before I burst out laughing. Harry’s eyes flew open again at the sound of my laughing, and he stared at me with his jaw dropped for a moment before slowly chuckling along with me. I threw my hand over my mouth, trying to muffle the sounds, but I couldn’t stop laughing; I felt like I was a teenager again. 

“Stop it!” He chuckled, pulling his briefs and jeans back up around his waist, but leaving the fly unzipped. He stepped towards me, reaching out and grabbing my arm, pulling me closer towards him. “‘S’not fuckin’ funny,” he said, though grinning the whole time as his face was easing closer towards me. 

“It’s fuckin’ hilarious!” I cried, “you should have seen--” he cut me off by pressing his lips harshly on mine again. I shut my eyes, leaning into the kiss, my grin fading as I held onto his arms. We stood there kissing for another minute, my neglected cock throbbing against my jeans, my arms running up and down Harry’s. He pulled back, my eyes opening in the process, and he let his gaze fall down to my crotch. 

“I could… maybe…” he trailed off. 

“I’m fine,” I choked out, not wanting to push Harry into doing anything too quickly.

“Yeah, but you haven’t--” 

“It’s okay,” I whispered. 

“I could try to--”

“Shh,” I hushed, leaning forward and pressing my lips to his again. “This is all I need right now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> =) 
> 
> lol sex. 
> 
> HI GUYS. 
> 
> OMG, RIGHT? RIGHT???? ARE YOU GUYS HAPPY???? I'm so glad I'm finally able to post this chapter!!! I wrote this on Monday (When I was on a writing spree) and I've been SO LOOKING FORWARD to posting this for you guys! I know a lot of you were like, on the breaking point of being SO COMPLETELY DONE WITH ME because of how long it was dragged out... so... I hope this makes up for it? I want to apologize for my lack of response when it came to the comments this chapter; I usually try to respond to the comments as they come in so that I never have to rush them... but I wanted to make sure I got this posted before I left work today, so that's why my replies that I did today were so god-awful short! 
> 
> **HUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGE SHOUTOUT TO THESE AMAZING PEOPLE WHO ALWAYS LEAVE ME COMMENTS: DiamondD, BeautifulPeopleLarry, Niallersdirtymofo, jacktheminiatureslayer, London_Calls, larrydirectionmcflied, Entice (You're my hero! So proud of you!) and my stunning wife, LouisLoves. You guys all mean the WORLD to me and I hope you really enjoyed this chapter!**
> 
> I don't have time to rant today, so at least you guys won't have to read my nonsense in these notes! Love you all! Will be updating again on SUNDAY. Happy Friday everyone!!! Byyyyyyyeeeeeeee.


	18. Stupid Face

I hopped onto the counter in Harry’s kitchen, watching as he opened the freezer and dug around for a minute, turning around with a victorious smile and holding a pint of Ben & Jerry’s. I let a grin sneak onto my face as I watched him shut the freezer door with his foot before opening the drawer and grabbing a spoon. 

I watched as Harry tore the lid off of the pint, letting it fall carelessly to the countertop before leaning against the island adjacent to me. He looked up at me, a smile breaking out across his face as he dug the spoon into the container. “What?” he chuckled, before bringing the spoon to his lips. 

“Nothing.” I laughed, smiling fondly at him as I watched him go back for another spoonful. He hadn’t even bothered to button the top of his jeans, causing them to still sit lowly on his hips with the fly undone. When we had heard Shauna close her bedroom door, Harry had dragged me back down the hall by the hand and into the kitchen, claiming that he had _needed_ ice cream. 

My mind was racing, thoughts coming in so quickly I wasn’t able to process them; it was hard to believe this was _actually_ happening. I was still waiting to wake up in my bed, covered in sweat, the awful realization that this had all been a dream. 

But the minutes kept passing and I wasn’t waking up, so all I could do is smile at Harry. 

I had so many things I wanted to ask him; wanted to know exactly what had changed. But from the moment he had kissed me in the hallway, all those questions got pushed to the back of my head. Right now, this was the only thing that mattered to me. 

“You want some?” He asked, grinning wildly at me as he shoved off the counter and took a few steps towards me. 

“I haven’t even had dinner yet.” I laughed quietly, tilted my head to the side and watching him intently as he put another bite of ice cream into his mouth. I let my eyes trail down his bare chest for a moment, letting my eyes lock on where his boxers stuck out of his jeans, before snapping them back up to his eyes when he spoke. 

“So?” He shrugged, “Neither have I.” 

“Then why are you eating ice cream?” 

“Because,” he said, rolling his eyes. “I… always want ice cream after I, you know…” 

“Ooohhhh,” I said, biting my bottom lip to contain my smirk. 

“Some people smoke; _I_ eat ice cream.” He took another step towards me and my knees spread open a little wider, allowing him to fit his body in between my thighs. I inhaled deeply through my nose, my fingers resting lightly against his sides and our eyes remained locked. He dug the spoon back into the container, then turned it towards me and held it in front of my closed mouth. “You know you want some.” 

I smirked at him, rolling my eyes before parting my lips and letting him feed me the spoonful of Cookies & Cream. I ran my fingertips up and down his bare sides, watching intently as he took another large spoonful for himself.

The unasked question was still on the tip of my tongue, wanting to know what was going through his mind, how this was all suddenly okay for him; but I didn’t want to ruin the moment. 

So because of that, I said nothing. 

Harry held out another spoonful of ice cream my way and I happily took it, chewing with closed lips before swallowing.

“Better than a smoke, huh?” He grinned at me, his eye locked onto my mouth. 

“Be even better if I’d come.” His eyes widened just a bit and I laughed loudly, lightly scratching my fingertips against his side again. “Only kidding,” I whispered, smiling brightly at him and watching as he bit back a grin. His eyes trailed down my chest and landed on my lap; I shifted uncomfortably, his eyes burning into me. I reached forward, tilting his chin back up to me. “I’m fine, Harry.” 

He nodded, returning the spoon back to the container and slowly taking a bite of the ice cream. With the spoon still held in his mouth, he reached out and brushed back a piece of my fringe with his cold fingertips. I shivered slightly, from the cold and from the gentleness of his touch, before looking down, smiling at the way we seemed to fit together perfectly. Harry grabbed the spoon, holding it tightly in his hand before leaning forward and kissing the corner of my mouth. 

I couldn’t help the way my heart fluttered. 

Harry set the pint down on the counter next to me, placing both hands on the top of my thighs before leaning forward, capturing my lips in another soft kiss. I hummed into the kiss, letting my hands trail from his sides around to his lower back, softly pinching the skin there between my fingertips. I tilted my head to the side, deepening the kiss a bit more.

His hands were gripping my thighs hard, squeezing the muscle there with his fingers, my knees boxing him into me. I let one of my hands travel up his back, about to thread them back into his curls when suddenly the squeak of a door opening and soft footsteps padding down the hallway fluttered into my ears. Harry quickly pulled back, taking a step backwards towards the island and crossing his arms over his bare chest. 

I looked over just as Shauna rounded the corner; she stopped in her tracks, her eyes shifting back and forth between Harry and I, before she slowly moved towards the fridge. I swallowed the lump in the back of my throat, my eyes flicking over to Harry and watching intently as he leaned forward to grab his ice cream container. Crossing one ankle over the other, he resumed his position against the island and took another large bite of ice cream. 

Nobody said anything at first, and my eyes had traveled back over to Shauna, watching as she rummaged around in the fridge for a moment before retrieving a water bottle. She closed the fridge and I watched as her eyes shifted back and forth between us. “Do, um, either of you lads know why there’s a… bike in the hallway?” 

I bit down on my bottom lip harshly, trying to hold back the grin that was trying to escape. I snapped my eyes over to Harry, who was staring down at the pint in his hand, his lip twitching as he tried not to laugh. He looked up and our eyes locked for a moment before he looked over at Shauna, cleared his throat and said: “Um, no?” 

“It’s just, like, tipped over? Right in front of our flat.” 

“Oh,” I said, my tone casual as I nodded. “That’s strange.” 

Harry’s lip twitched again. 

“It wasn’t there when you got here?” Shauna asked, raising both of her eyebrows at me . 

I coughed, “Um, no. No it wasn’t.” 

“Interesting.” She nodded, her eyes flicking back and forth between us again before she turned around and left the room. We both wordlessly waited until we heard her bedroom door shut again before Harry let out a loud laugh, setting his ice cream down and covering his face with both hands. I bit my bottom lip again, grinning as I watched Harry laugh. 

“I guess I should go move that damn thing…” I trailed off, my arms crossed low on my stomach and my knees bent against the counter. Harry looked up, staring at me for a moment before stepping back between my legs, his hands returning to their spot on my thighs. 

“I don’t think you should go anywhere,” he whispered, sliding his hands up my thighs and around to my hips. I breathed in deeply through my nose, trying to bite back the grin that wanted to appear on my face again, my eyes locked on his as I waited for him to make a move. He began to lean forward but stopped abruptly when Shauna’s door opened again. He took a quick step back, running his fingers through his hair and looking over when Shauna appeared around the corner. 

I kept my eyes fixated on Harry, realizing that he had pulled away both times Shauna had come into the kitchen, and I couldn’t help but let a wave of disappointment wash over me. I kept my eyes locked on him and I knew he could feel them, but he was swiftly avoiding them. He blindly reached back out to retrieve his damn ice cream, focusing hard on scooping some onto his spoon as Shauna puttered around the kitchen. 

She must have finally sensed the tension because she stopped what she was doing, looked back and forth between the two of us and then said, “Sorry.” My eyes flicked over to her, watching as she blushed and backed out of the room. My eyes snapped back over to Harry, watching as he raised his head and took a step towards me. 

I held my hand out, palm facing him, signalling him to stop. He stopped in his tracks, a confused expression across his face and he raised an eyebrow at me. “What?” 

“What-- what was that about?” 

“What was what about?” he asked, taking another step towards me and reaching out for my hand but I pulled it away before he could grab it. 

“That.” I nodded my head in the direction that Shauna had walked off in. “You keep pulling away from me.” Harry blinked at me a few times before stepping back, his eyes darting back down to his ice cream container as he rolled some around with his spoon. I narrowed my eyes at him, realizing he wasn’t planning on answering my question. “Harry?” I asked, watching as he took a bite before looking up at me. 

With a full mouth, he responded with, “Hmm?” 

“Harry.” 

“I, um,” he began, staring hard down at the Ben & Jerry’s container. I frowned, even though he couldn’t see it, and self-consciously wrapped my arms around my stomach. “I just, errm… think maybe that it’s best if we, like, you know… keep it between us… for a while,” Harry said, his words coming out painfully slow. My heart dropped as I looked down to my lap, realizing what he was actually trying to say to me. 

“You’re ashamed,” I whispered. 

“What?” 

“You’re ashamed of me,” I whispered, my tone even quieter than it was before. 

I heard him set his ice cream down, his spoon clanking against the countertop, and suddenly he was standing right in front of me again. He hesitantly hooked his finger under my chin, pulling my head up to look at him. I swallowed harshly, my eyes locked on his as he stared intently at me. “Louis,” he said, “I’m _not_ ashamed of you.” 

“Then why don’t you want to tell anybody?” 

“Because I--” He paused, blinking a few times at me in thought. “Lou, I just… I don’t know how to… how to do this.” 

“Do what?” I snapped. 

“This.” He gestured between us, “I don’t… know what to do with you.” 

“Oh,” I huffed, “ _right._ I didn’t realize I was such a goddamn challenge.” I pushed him away by his shoulders, forcefully hopping off the counter and turning my back to him. He was quick to grab onto my arm though, pulling me back towards him. 

“Don’t-- that’s not what I meant,” he said, his tone soft. “You know that’s not what I meant.” 

“No, Harry, I don’t.” I winced, my eyes narrowed at him and my heart pounding against my chest. 

“Lou, this is all… all new to me!” he said, his tone getting louder with each word. “I-- you know that I’ve-- I don’t know-- Louis,” he stammered, starting different sentences but never finishing them. I shook my head at him, raising both hands out to stop him from coming any closer to me. 

“Just-- just forget about it,” I choked out, turning around and making another attempt at leaving. 

“Louis, stop!” Harry said, reaching out to grab onto my forearm again. I quickly retracted my arm from his grasp, narrowing my eyes at him. “Please don’t run away; you always run away.” 

“Well maybe you should stop chasing me,” I replied, my tone as bitter as I could make it. He gulped, blinking at me a few times but made no further moves to stop me. I shook my head, leaving the kitchen and heading towards the door as fast as I could. I slammed the door shut behind me, hopping over the fallen-over bike, before bringing up my fist and knocking harshly on my door. 

I bounced from one foot to another, bringing my hand up and banging on the door again. “Come on, Niall!” I yelled at the door, my heart still pounding against my chest. I half expected Harry’s door to fly open at any moment and I knew I needed to get inside before that happened. Finally, my door cracked open to a confused looking Niall. I brushed past him, storming down the hallway heading towards my room. 

“Lou? What the fuck?” Niall called out at my back but I didn’t turn around. I slammed my bedroom door, my hand coming up to cover my mouth as I slowly sank down onto my bed. I closed my eyes tightly, the room feeling like it was spinning around me, trying to will my heart rate down. I knew this was going to happen; I should have known better from the moment he kissed me.

This was the only possible outcome of this. 

My eyes burned furiously but I refused to let myself cry over this.

I heard Niall’s footsteps hovering outside my door but I kept my eyes closed, leaning forward with my elbows on my knees, my hand still covering my mouth as I tried to keep myself together. The door creaked open and Niall slinked in, padding over to the bed and sitting down next to me. 

“What happened?” Niall asked, his tone gentle and staring down at the ground. 

“He… he fucking kissed me.” 

“What?” Niall’s head whipped over in my direction. I hesitantly looked over at him, his jaw hung open and a shocked expression across his face. I sighed, shaking my head and looking back down at the ground. “Then… why are you sad?” 

“Because. It’s… it’s a fucking joke.” 

“Lou…”

“He’s straight, Niall,” I said, looking back over at him. “He’s just-- he’s just fucking straight.” 

“But… he kissed you.” 

“Yeah.”

“So…”

“But he doesn’t _want_ anything with me,” I said. “He let me suck his fuckin’ cock but he doesn’t want a relationship with me.”

 _”You sucked his cock?!”_ Niall cried, reaching over and hitting my shoulder roughly. I winced, looking over at him as I rubbed at my shoulder. His eyebrows were both raised and a toothy smile was across his face, “You _minx!_ ” 

“Niall, please.” 

“I don’t understand,” he said. “If y’all kissed… and then, you know, _rubbed uglies_ , why are you over here?” 

“Because, Niall!” I snapped, “I fucking told you! He’s _straight!_ ” 

“Louis,” Niall groaned, bringing his hands up and running his fingers through his hair roughly. “You’re not makin’ a lick of sense!” 

“He doesn’t want to _tell_ anybody about… about us! He wants to keep me a secret. He’s-- he’s ashamed of me!” I exclaimed, gesturing wildly with my hands. “He’s ashamed of me because he’s straight!” 

“Lou--”

“No! There’s no other reason!” 

“Yeah, but--” 

“I shoulda known better,” I exasperated, shaking my head and looking down at the floor. “It was all too good to be true.” 

“Louis!” Niall exclaimed, “can you just-- just stop for a fuckin’ second?!” I looked over at him, blinked a few times but shut my mouth, waiting for him to continue. “Lou… he _kissed you._ I’m a straight man, and I can appreciate how good lookin’ you are, but I don’t have any desire to kiss ya!” He rolled his eyes, “You just turned a straight man gay!” 

“No I didn’t.” 

“ _Yes_ you did!” he countered, “don’t ya think he deserves a few minutes to… to process all this?” 

“Yeah, but--”

“ _No butts._ ” 

Silence. 

“You were over there for an hour,” Niall continued. “ _Maybe_ an hour and a half. I think… he deserves more time than that.” I sighed loudly, opening my mouth to speak but cut myself off when the sound of knocking echoed down the hallway. “Bet ya’ twenty quid that’s Harry,” Niall said, grinning at me. 

I sighed again, making no moves to get up. 

“Come on, cupcake,” he said, standing and holding out a hand to me. I shook my head no, making no effort to stand up. “Fine,” he said, shrugging. “I’ll let him in then.” I watched as Niall left the room without another word and mentally prepared myself for whatever was about to happen next. I swear I was going to have a heart attack by the age of thirty if my heart kept pounding the way it does for Harry. 

I leaned forward again, resting my head in the palms of my hands, listening as Niall opened the door and told Harry where I was. I took a deep breath in, my eyes squeezed shut, listening as his footsteps got closer. 

_Slam!_

I jumped, not expecting the sound and I whipped my head over to look at Harry. He was standing by the closed door, arms crossed over his chest, sour expression on his face and I could hear him panting from where I sat. 

“Jesus!” I cried, “you sca--”

“You drive me fucking crazy!” Harry exclaimed. I flinched at his tone, my mouth hung open from where he had cut me off, blinking rapidly at him as I took in how angry he was. 

“Har--”

“No!” he yelled, “just… just shut up for two _fucking_ seconds and listen to what I have to say!” I slowly nodded, pulling my mouth shut and watching him as he began to pace back and forth in front of the door. “You’re so fucking irritating!” he yelled, avoiding my eyes altogether as he paced. “I swear you drive me fucking crazy; with your _stupid_ outbursts and your _stupid_ attitude and your _stupid_... face!” 

I bit my bottom lip hard, my eyes shifting back and forth as he walked, his hands now ripping at his curls. “You think this is _easy_ for me?!” he exclaimed, whipping his head over to look at me, his arms flying up in the air. He went back to pacing, “I’ve lived on this planet for _twenty one goddamn years_ thinking that I at least _knew who I was!_ But then _you_ \--” He pointed at me, “Fucking _show up_ and ruin _everything!_ ” 

I gulped. 

“With your _stupid_ hair and your _stupid_ accent and your _stupid onion breath!”_

This was the fastest I’ve ever heard him speak. 

“Look at you!” he cried, pointing an angry finger back at me as he paced. “You’re sittin’ there, after working all goddamn day, after _being on your knees_ and you still look fucking perfect!” He stopped pacing, his chest rising and falling, his eyes narrowed and puffs of air coming out of his parted lips. 

“Harry--”

“I’m not done!” he yelled, pointing another finger at me for a moment before going back to his pacing. “You’re all I’ve fucking thought about since the first time I met you! I can’t do anything! I sit at work and think about you.” He turned towards me and began counting off on his fingers, “I sit at _home_ and think about you. I can’t eat, I can’t sleep, I can’t take a _shit_ without your stupid face creeping into my brain!” 

I knew he was angry, that was pretty obvious, but I couldn’t help the smile that was creeping slowly onto my face. 

“I can’t get enough of you! I miss you as soon as you leave, I stare at my phone until you text me back-- I can’t watch _any_ goddamn movie without wondering if _you’ve_ seen it or if _you’d_ enjoy it or if you’d fucking lay with me on the couch and watch it!” He threw his hands up in the air before walking again; back and forth, back and forth. 

By now, I was outright smirking at him. 

“And then you say something _obnoxious_ like: Stop chasing me then, Harry! Leave me alone, Harry! Don’t touch me, Harry!” He finished his rant in that bloody posh accent he likes to imitate me with; his eyes narrowed and his cheeks flushed, his breath coming out ragged. “Do you see it?! Do you see what you do to me?!” 

I blinked at him, both eyebrows raised and the smile still plastered on my face. It was the first time he had really stopped to look at me since his rant had begun, and when our eyes locked his expression softened. When he spoke up again, his tone was much softer and barely above a whisper; “Do you see how _crazy_ I am for you?” 

I slowly nodded, the smile still stuck on my face. 

“Do you fucking _believe me_ when I say I’m crazy for you?” he asked, his tone more stern and needing clarification. I slowly nodded again, my eyes unmoving from his. “Are you going to _runaway_ from me this time?” he asked, narrowing his eyes at me.

I hesitated for a second before slowly shaking my head no. 

Silence.

“Come here,” he whispered. 

Without a second thought, I jumped up and darted towards him. He took the few steps to meet me in the middle, his arms held out wide to his side and when we collided he forcefully pressed his lips to mine, his arms wrapping around my back and pulling me in so tight that it hurt. I tangled my fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck, my thumbs on either side of his jaw, kissing him back with as much passion as I could manage. 

We parted ever so much, his arms unmoving on my back and our faces pressed up so close that his breath was fanning out over my lips. I opened my eyes, looking deeply into his with a smile wide across my features. “Hi,” he whispered, running his hands up and down my spine. 

“Hi.” I grinned, leaning back in and pecking his lips. “Quite a speech, Styles,” I said, pecking him again. 

“I had a good one planned out,” he groaned, pressing his hips flush against mine, leaning in and kissing me for a long moment. “Before you threw my bike down in the hall,” he mumbled, in between his kisses. “My plan wasn’t always to just… this,” he said, kissing me again. I smiled into it, scratching at his scalp as I pulled away. 

“I like this better,” I whispered, leaning forward and wrapping my arms tight around him in a hug, my chin resting against his shoulder. “Just one thing,” I whispered, letting my breath blow hot against his earlobe. He shivered, his hands still running up and down my spine, but nodded for me to continue. With my lips ghosting over his ear, I whispered: “I _don’t_ talk like that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiiiiiiiiii guys! 
> 
> How is everybody's weekend going? I hope all is well! What did you guys think of the chapter?! I absolutely LOVE how the ending turned out! I love how Harry's character is getting to develop more =) As always, I am completely overwhelmed by how much LOVE you guys give me on a day to day basis when it comes to this story! You all leave me such beautiful comments that I always look forward to and enjoy! I loved all of your responses to the last chapter! It was so nice to finally surprise you guys with what you WANTED and not just TEASE you guys =) 
> 
> I've had some people ask me about the length of this story. I don't know _exactly_ how many chapters it's going to be, but we're just getting into the good parts! So this is definitely not over yet. Their journey together is really just beginning, so don't think it's going to be ending just yet! I have A LOT more planned for you guys =) 
> 
> **BIG SHOUTOUT to these fuckin' amazing people that are the loves of my life: London_Calls, asdfghjklsazza (For future reference, sweetheart, I’m going to refer to you as… Ted. Because I can’t phase typing out asdfghjklsazza again.) larrydirectionermcflied, DiamondD, hanni_mikk, my beautiful, devoted wife LouisLoves, naillersdirtymofo, BeautifulPeopleLarry, jacktheminiatureslayer and, of course, my babyboo Entice. You guys are SERIOUSLY the most AMAZING people I know!**
> 
> I will be updating again soon! I LOVE YOU ALL!
> 
> Byyyyyeeeeeeeeee


	19. French Toast

_Looooooouiiiiiiieeeeeeee_

**Harrrrrrrrrrrrrry**

_Good. You’re awake._

_Meet me downstairs in 5._

I raised an eyebrow at my phone, confused as to what Harry was planning, but before I could respond my phone buzzed and another text came through. 

_And don’t you dare show up without shoes on!!! It’s freezing!!! And there’s snow on the ground!_

I let a smile sneak onto my face, biting down on my bottom lip hard as I read his texts. I rolled over onto my back, my duvet still low around my hips. It was still early in the morning on Saturday, and I couldn’t help the way my heart fluttered just by reading his texts. 

**What’re you up to…**

_Shhhhh. Always questioning me. Just meet me downstairs. Wear something comfortable._

_With shoes!_

_Oh! And a jumper! It’s really cold!_

_Maybe a hat, too…_

**Mum? Is that you?**

_Would you punch me if I suggested a scarf?_

**I could never punch my mum.**

_Call me your mum one more time…_

I smiled widely to myself, throwing the duvet off my legs and sitting up on the edge of my bed. I leaned my elbows against my thighs, tapping out my response to him with my thumbs. 

**What’ll you do? Spank me?**

I watched the typing bubble appeared then disappear next to his name, biting down on my lower lip hard, watching as this happened a few times in a row before his response finally came through. 

_Don’t tempt me…_

My breath caught in my throat, my cheeks instantly heating up, groaning quietly to myself. I dug the heel of my hand down into my crotch, suddenly needing some sort of friction against it. I inhaled deeply through my nose, my wrist still willing my semi down, before texting him [one handedly] back. 

**Cheeky!!!**

_You now have 3 minutes to meet me downstairs._

_Use them to put some damn shoes on._

**If I used all 3 minutes to put my “damn shoes” on, I’d be walking down in ONLY my shoes.**

With my hand still pressed against my crotch, I watched as the typing bubble fluttered a few times, then after a long moment of nothing; he quickly typed out his response. 

_...cheeky…_

I rolled my eyes, rubbing my heel into myself for another moment before standing. I quickly changed into a pair of trackies and pulled on a thick sweater, opening up my closet to pull out a pair of trainers. I sat down on the edge of my bed to lace them up, running my fingers through my hair to try and sort out my bed head. I looked myself over in the mirror once before leaving my room, pausing to grab my keys from the dining table before heading down the stairs. 

When I got to the ground level, I instantly spotted Harry standing in the middle of the parking lot with a hand holding that _bloody bike_ up. He grinned when he saw me, excitingly waving me over but I instantly shook my head. 

“Nope! Nope! No way. I’m going back upstairs!” I called out to him. 

“Don’t be daft!” he yelled, cupping his hands around his mouth. 

“Fuck you! I’m going back to bed!” 

He flipped down the kickstand, propping the bike up, before jogging over to where I was standing at the bottom of the steps. I began shaking my head again, holding my palms out far in front of me, wordlessly telling him to stay away. He stopped when he got closer, looking at my outstretched arms for a minute, before swatting them away and stepping up into my space. 

Before I could even process what was happening, he had his arms wrapped around my back, pulling me tightly against him. I let a puff of air leave me lungs, well-- more like he forced it out of me, but I couldn’t help but relax into his grip. I rested my palms against his jacket-covered biceps, my gaze resting on his mouth, which was _so close_ to mine. “Do you think this is a game?” he whispered, his eyes flicking up from my lips to my eyes, then back again. 

“What’s that?” I whispered, a barely audible moan escaping my lungs when his hands traveled down further on my back; the heels of his palm resting on my waist and his fingertips resting against the top of my bum. 

“Talkin’ about walking down those stairs--” he nodded behind me, then leaned further in, whispering the next part against my lips. “In _just your shoes.”_ I shivered, groaning quietly into him, leaning forward and kissing him. His hands slipped further down, grinding his hips against mine, causing me to groan again; all of the blood rushing back down to my cock. I captured his lips again, bringing my hands up to tangle in his hair, pulling at his roots. 

He moaned loudly, causing my eyes to flick open, grinning at him. “Hmm?” I raised an eyebrow at him, giving his hair another tug. His eyes rolled back in his head, groaning loudly and pushing his hips back into mine, pressing his lips back against mine in a rough kiss. Suddenly he pulled back, releasing the grasp that he had on me and smiling brightly down at me. 

“Time to learn!” 

“Harry,” I groaned, my hand instinctively coming down to block my crotch. “You can’t just--” 

“What?” He grinned at me, his eyes lit up with mischief. “Got a problem there, Lou?” 

I glared, “Nope. No problem.” 

“Yeah?” He took a step towards me, wrapping his fingers loosely around my wrist that was hovering over my crotch. My breath caught in my throat, my eyes locked on his. “Then if I were to just, say… move this,” he trailed off, trying to move my wrist away but I held it steady, my eyes narrowing at him again. He threw his head back and laughed loudly, then leaned forward and pecked my cheek before stepping back again. “I promise I’ll make it worth your while.” 

I sighed loudly, a bit over exaggerated, before finally agreeing. “If I fall, we’re done.” 

“Deal.” He grinned, grabbing my hand and pulling me towards the abandoned bike. 

“You know,” I said conversationally, “it was mighty forward of you to _grope_ me back there when we’re out in the open like this.” I was trailing behind him, his hand locked in mine, and he turned his head over his shoulder to grin at me. 

“Maybe I just decided that… I don’t care if people see.” 

“Oh?” I asked, trying to sound casual but my heart fluttering all the same. 

“Maybe,” he repeated, wiggling his eyebrows at me before letting my hand go, gesturing wildly at the bike as if he was showing it at an auction. “She’s a _beauty_ ain’t she?” I stared blankly at him, blinking a few times but not responding. He rolled his eyes, extending his hand out to me. I sighed quietly, grasping onto his hand and allowing him to pull me closer towards the bike. 

I grasped the handlebars, about to swing a leg over it before stopping abruptly, turning back towards Harry and whining. “But why do I _have_ to learn?” 

“Because, Louis.” Harry rolled his eyes again, “ _Everybody_ needs to know how to ride a bike.”

“But _why?”_

“Because you’ll need to know one day.” 

“Mate, I’ve survived twenty four years without knowin’ how. I think I’ve beat the system there, wouldn’t ya say?” 

“Let’s say you were being chased by a crazed killer and your _only escape option_ was a bike. What would you do?” he challenged, crossing his arms over his chest and giving me a pointed look.

“Be killed, obviously.” 

“Orrrrrrr you could simply learn how to ride one… and live.” 

“There’s many things I can ride, Styles. A bike doesn’t have to be one of them.”

His breath caught in his throat for a moment before he huffed, grinning and pointing a finger at me. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you this morning.”

“What can I say?” I grinned back at him, “I’m randy in the morning.” 

He smirked at me, his eyes locked on mine but then seemed to shake himself of it. “Get on the bike, Lou.” 

“Make me.” 

“Get on the _bike,_ Lou.” 

“ _Make me._ ” 

“Loooooouuieeeee!” he whined, stomping a foot on the concrete below. 

“Why don’t we just go upstairs instead, yeah?” I offered, wiggling my eyebrows at him. “I’ll… make you breakfast!” 

“No.” 

“And I’ll even brew you some _coffee._ ”

“No.” 

“Well, I’ll have to first _buy_ some coffee, because I don’t stock that shit.”

He stared blankly at me. 

“But _then_ I’ll brew you some coffee.” 

“No.” 

“And then we can watch a movie!”

“Get on the bike.”

“Your choice!” I continued, “anything you want!” 

“I want you to get on the bike.” 

“Or we could watch a show!” 

“Bike. Now.” 

I frowned deeply at him, “I’m not really into musicals, but, I mean… if that’s what you want.” 

“Get on the bike!” he yelled, though he was laughing now. 

“But how can I think of riding a bike when you’re standing here like this.” I gave him a suggestive smile, stepping towards him and resting my fingers lightly against his sides. “Lookin’ all... _sexy._ ” 

He grinned, lightly pushing me away and taking a step back; “Don’t distract me.” 

“But _you’re_ distracting _me_.” I smiled innocently at him, making grabby hands for his sides again. He slapped the back of my hand and I gasped, feigning hurt when I pulled my hand back. “How very dare you!” 

“You can’t charm your way out of this.” He grinned, his lip twitching as he tried to suppress it. 

“Mmmm but I can try.” I smirked, taking another step forward and snaking my arms around his waist, my hands going underneath the thick black coat he was wearing. My fingers danced along his back, relishing in the warmth and he closed his eyes for a moment, a content smile across his features as he held onto my elbows with his fingers. 

“You’re impossible, didja know that?” he mumbled, his fingers still gripping my elbows tightly. 

“So I’ve been told,” I said, smiling brightly up at him. 

I leaned forward, trying to catch his mouth in another kiss, unable to stop myself now that I had permission, but he tilted his face away from me at the last minute; causing my lips to connect with the bottom of his jaw. I pulled back, pouting at him. “No more til you get on the bike,” he said, his jaw still angled up but his eyes looking down at me. 

I groaned loudly, pulling myself away from him and taking a step back. “You’re _no fun_ , Harry Styles.” 

“So I’ve been told.” He winked at me, then grinned hard. 

“Fine.” I rolled my eyes, turning my back to him and stepping back over towards the bike, swinging one leg over and sitting down on the seat. With my feet still placed firmly on the ground, I grabbed the handlebars and looked over at him expectantly. He had a toothy smile spread across his face but stood unmoving. “Well?” I asked, raising both eyebrows at him. “Aren’t you gonna give me some sort of instruction?!” 

“Oh! Right!” He laughed, shaking his head as he stepped over towards me, still grinning brightly and I couldn’t help but roll my eyes again. “Okay, so the, ermm… main goal is to, like… stay up right?” 

“Oh, really?” I mocked, “I would have never guessed!”

“Shut up.” He playfully smacked my thigh, “I’ve never taught anybody how to ride a bike!” 

“So you’re telling me that after _all that_ ,” I began, narrowing my eyes at him. “That you don’t even have a _lesson plan_ set up?!” 

“Errmm… no?” He sheepishly smiled at me. 

“But yet _I’m_ the impossible one. Right.”

 

* * *

 

“I’m doing it!” 

“You’re doing it!” 

“I’m _really_ doing it!” I exclaimed, the handlebars wobbling back and forth a bit as I tried to remain balanced. I sneaked a peek over at Harry, who was walking along side of me with a bright smile across his face. I instantly turned my gaze back ahead of me, focusing on the task at hand. 

“You can, um, speed up you know,” Harry offered, his tone showing his amusement. 

“Right. Right, speed up,” I agreed, nodding my head once and began pedaling a bit faster. “I can’t believe I’ve never done this before! This is _great!”_ I yelled out, glancing back over at Harry as he now jogged along next to me, his smile never leaving his face. I quickly looked back ahead of me and my eyes widened a bit when I realized how close the end of the parking lot was. “Uh, Harry?!” 

“Turn!” he yelled. 

“Turn which way?!” I panicked. 

“Left! Turn left!” 

My heart raced and I could feel how sweaty my palms were. “I don’t know how to turn left!” I yelled, realizing that if I attempted to turn I would definitely fall over. 

“Break! Break!” Harry yelled, but it was too late. The front tire ran straight into the edge of the dumpster, causing me to fall harshly over to the side. My arm instantly braced out, causing my palm to skid roughly against the pavement as the rest of my body followed, the bike falling roughly against my hip. “Louis!” Harry yelled, quickly ripping the bike off of me and straddling my legs, a concerned expression across his face. 

“I’m _over_ it!” I declared, sitting up straight, causing Harry to take a small step backwards, as I examined my torn up palm. “I’m _real fucking over it!”_ I yelled, glaring up at him. He crouched down in front of me, gently grabbing onto my wrist and turning it over, wincing when he saw the torn up skin. I bit my bottom lip, pain surging through the heel of my hand, watching as Harry analyzed it. 

“Does it hurt?” 

“Of course it bloody hurts!” I exclaimed, pulling my wrist away from him. 

“I’m sorry!” he frowned, his hands bracing against my knees as he leaned in and kissed my cheek. “You were doing so good, I was so proud of you,” he whispered, kissing the corner of my mouth. I inhaled deeply through my nose, flicking my gaze up to his eyes, the frown disappearing from my face. 

“Fuck bikes,” I mumbled. “No more bikes.” 

“Okay,” he whispered, smiling sweetly at me. “No more bikes,” he confirmed, leaning forward again and pecking my lips. “Come on,” he stood, bending forward and gripping me under my arms to pull me up. “Let’s go get you cleaned up,” he said, brushing the dirt off the back of my thighs.

“No more bikes _ever_ ” I clarified, giving the bike a harsh kick. 

He chuckled, “That’s fair.” 

“They’re stupid,” I pouted, watching as Harry picked up the bike and held onto the handlebars with one hand, letting his other hand sit protectively on the small of my back, gently urging me to start walking towards the building. “And they’re _dangerous_.” 

“Very dangerous,” he chuckled.

“You forgot stupid.” I glanced over at him. 

“The stupidest.” 

“That’s not a word.” I rolled my eyes at him, my injured hand cradled protectively against my stomach. When we got to the stairs, he silently urged me to go on ahead of him as he lifted the bike up and shouldered it, trailing along behind me as I whined the whole way. “Stupid stairs… stupid bike… stupid… life.” 

Harry huffed out a breath of laughter behind me, setting the bike down and pushing it when we reached our floor, fishing out his keys and twisting the lock before gesturing me to go on ahead of him into his flat. He followed me, leaning the bike up against the wall before placing his hand on my back and guiding me into the kitchen. 

“Sit,” he instructed, before turning around and jogging down the hallway. Sighing to myself, I braced my uninjured palm down on the island before hopping up, staring down at my now bleeding hand once I was situated. Harry appeared a moment later, a white container held in one hand and a wet flannel in the other. He stood in front of me, after setting the items down on the counter next to me, and gently wrapped his fingertips around my wrist, extending it towards him. 

With a deep frown set across his features, he flicked his gaze up to my eyes and he leaned back in to press a lingering kiss to my lips. My heart fluttered again, not only from the kiss but how gentle he was being with my battle scar, and I watched as he examined my palm once more before grabbing the flannel. “Might sting a bit,” he whispered, using the cloth to wipe away the blood from my hand. 

“Fuckin’ hate bikes,” I mumbled, watching as he cleaned up the wound a bit before grabbing the first aid kit and popping it open. 

“I know,” he murmured. “I’m sorry for… forcing you into it.” 

“You should be,” I said, though I was grinning at him the whole time. 

He rolled his eyes at me, spreading some of the antibiotic gel onto the cut before grabbing a bandage to place over it. He wordlessly finished caring for my wound, before closing up the kit and washing his hands at the sink. I watched as he moved, my eyes locked on his back, smiling at him when he finally turned towards me again. 

“Lemme take care of you,” he whispered, grinning at me as stepped up into my space again. My knees spread out to the side, allowing him to move closer to me as I wrapped my uninjured hand around the back of his neck, my fingertips scraping through his curls at the base of his neck. He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to my lips, pulling back just barely before asking his next question against my lips. “Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?”

“Maybe.” 

“And what’s that?” he asked, his hands sliding up my thighs some as he bent forward to press a kiss low on my jaw, close to where my neck started.

“Hmm,” I hummed, my eyes closing and craning my neck up to give him more access to it. His hands slid up a little further on my thighs, his fingertips scraping back and forth on my arm that was rested across my lap, causing goosebumps to form on it. “Well,” I said, my eyes still closed as he pressed light kisses into my neck. “I am… quite hungry.” 

“Yeah?” he muttered, his fingertips digging into my hips now as his lips traveled back up my neck. His breath blew hot against my earlobe as he asked his next question, “What didja want?” 

“Mmm…” I trailed off, running my fingers through his curls still, thinking about his question for a moment. “French toast.” 

He laughed abruptly, stopping his work on my neck as he pulled back some, his fingertips still digging into my hips but now looking me in the eyes. “French toast?” 

“Yes.” I nodded, “I haven’t had it in ages.” 

“ _That’s_ what you want?” 

“Mmm…” I thought about it for another moment, before nodding excitedly. “Yes.” 

“Okay.” He grinned at me, “I can do that.” I smiled brightly at him and he pressed one more soft kiss into my cheek before wrapping his arms around my back and gently coaxing me off the countertop. “Come on,” he said, stepping behind me and urging me to walk into the living room. “You just sit… here.” He gently pushed me down onto the sofa, bending down and grabbing my legs, pulling them up onto the chaise. I watched as he gently grabbed onto my ankle, pulling my shoe off at the heel and then repeating the same action with the other leg. 

“And watch whatever you like.” He handed me the remote, smiling down at me. “Oh! Wait!” he exclaimed, holding up a finger before jogging out of the room. I sat with a confused expression on my face, gripping the remote tightly in my hand, listening as he dug through one of the hall closets. He returned a moment later, his hands held behind his back and I raised a questioning eyebrow at him. “Incase you need anything.” He grinned, pulling his hand out from behind his back and presenting me with a small, silver bell. 

I threw my head back and laughed, this being one of the most ridiculous things I’d ever seen. “You’re fuckin’ crazy!” I exclaimed, still staring at the bell in his outstretched hand as I laughed harder. “I can _see_ the kitchen from here! I don’t need a bell!” 

“I want to take care of you!” He laughed along with me, placing the stupid bell down on the coffee table. “Don’t laugh at me when I’m being comforting!” 

“You’re being _ridiculous!”_

He rolled his eyes, reaching his hand out and pressing the power button on the remote that was still held tightly in my hand. “Did you want to watch something on cable? Or did you want me to put a movie in for you?” he asked, raising both eyebrows at me. 

“Netflix,” I responded immediately. 

He grinned, opening one of the drawers of the coffee table and producing another remote. I watched as he turned on the blu ray player, pressing a few buttons on it before the Netflix logo appeared on the screen. He handed me the second remote, smirking at me again before leaning down and pressing one more kiss to my cheek. “Thank you,” I said, smiling brightly at him. “Now go make my breakfast.” 

“Yes, sir.” He laughed loudly, but rolled his eyes at me before he turned and headed back to the kitchen. I shifted my hips around on the cushions to get comfortable, scrolling through his saved programs and judging them all as I did. It was filled with a bunch of movies and shows that I had never heard of before, or never had enough interest to consider watching, but stopped when one caught my eye. 

With a smiling creeping back onto my face, I cleared my throat before speaking. “Um, Harry?” 

“Yeah?” He called out from the kitchen, the sounds of pans clanking together stopping as well. 

“Does um… Shauna watch your netflix account too?” 

There was a moments hesitation before his head popped around the corner, “No…?” 

“Oh,” I said, my lip twitching as I tried not to grin. “Interesting.” 

He narrowed his eyes at me a bit, “Why do you ask?” 

“Just, um, you got a colorful collection saved on here.” 

“Which one?” he asked, his eyes still narrowed in my direction. 

“Britain's Next Top Model?” 

His eyes widened, looking like a deer caught in headlights, his cheeks flushing as he looked down to the ground. I threw my head back and laughed loudly, my cackles echoing throughout the living room. 

“Hey!” he said, his tone defensive. “It’s… it’s a good program.” 

“Right, right,” I agreed, snuffling loudly as my laughter died down. “I’m sure.” 

He narrowed his eyes again, “Don’t judge me, Tomlinson.” I held my hands up, surrendering but still chuckling quietly at him. He sighed loudly, retreating back to the kitchen to continue making my breakfast. The smile stayed on my face as I scrolled down to the television section, flipping through until I found exactly what I was looking for; Chopped. 

Back when Niall and I originally started exploring with American TV, we had become obsessed with one of their cooking competitions and had spent the entire summer getting caught up on it. They had just added another season to Netflix a few nights ago and I had been spending all of my free time watching the new episodes. I brought up the episode I was on last, skipping ahead to the point that I had stopped, before setting the remote down on the couch next to me and leaning back into the cushions. 

I watched intently while Harry cooked, my nose catching the different aromas that were sneaking out of the kitchen. That, plus the food on the telly, was making my already-growling stomach even hungrier. When Harry finally emerged from the kitchen about twenty minutes later, two plates in hand, I couldn’t help but smile widely at him. He set the plates down on the coffee table before heading back to the kitchen, returning a moment later with silverware and the bottle of syrup. 

“What’re you watching?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at me as I scooted off the couch, sitting myself down behind the coffee table and making grabby hands for the silverware. 

“Chopped,” I answered, pouting when he was looking at the telly instead of my outstretched hand. “Harry!” I said, causing him to look over at me. 

“Right, sorry.” He smiled at me, handing me one of the forks and sitting down on the floor next to me. “What’s it about?” he asked, nodding towards the television as I poured the syrup over my slices of toast. 

“It’s like… this cooking competition, right?” I paused, cutting off a piece of toast and popping it in my mouth. “And they don’t know what they have to cook until they open their little… basket things--” I chewed before I leaned over and pecked his cheek, “this is delicious.” He smiled at me as I continued, “And like, they give them a bunch of random things to cook… and… drama always happens.” 

“Mmm,” he hummed, taking a large bite of his food. 

While we ate the rest of our meal, I took the time to explain the details of the show to Harry in between bites, and we quickly began criticizing each of the chefs. (Because that’s the best part of watching the show.) “Why would he do that?!” Harry exclaimed, laughing hard. “Nobody would eat that!” 

“Because he’s an idiot!” I laughed, looking over at Harry and smiling brightly at him. 

“I would have made them into cookies!” He pointed out, as the disastrous dessert round took place. 

“Oh, really?” I mocked, raising an eyebrow at him. “Maybe you should go on this show then,” I continued, smiling brightly at him. “With what I’ve seen from your cooking skills so far, I’d say you’d win.” I nodded my head at our empty plates that sat on the coffee table. 

“Yeah?” He smiled fondly at me, scooting closer to me and pressing a soft kiss to my neck, just underneath my ear. “You think I’d win?” he murmured, snaking one of his arms around my stomach and gripping onto my side, still mouthing at my neck causing a shiver to run down my spine. 

“Mhmm,” I hummed, my eyes shut as goosebumps formed on my skin. He gently pushed me over until I was laying on my back, pinned down in the space between the coffee table and the couch, and his palms were braced on either side of my head as he continued his work on my neck. I moaned quietly, my fingertips running up and down his sides, my neck tilted to the right as he sucked lightly at my pulse point. 

My fingers caught on the hem of his shirt and I slid my hands underneath them, running them back up towards his chest, his skin hot against my fingertips. He groaned, kissing back across my cheek until he was able to capture my lips. I could feel my arousal in the pit of my stomach, the front of my trackies growing tight around my crotch, my hands running up his chiselled chest underneath his shirt as we kissed. 

I felt his tongue run across my bottom lip and I instantly parted them, allowing him to deepen the kiss. I moaned into it, running the backs of my fingers along the skin just above his jeans, feeling his muscles twitch underneath my touch. I let one of my hands fall to his thigh, that was tucked up on the outside of my leg propping him up, and I squeezed the muscle there, my thumb dangerously close to his crotch. 

When he pulled away from the kiss, I couldn’t help but look down, a grin forming on my face when I could see the outline of him through his jeans. My eyes flicked back up to his, watching as he panted slightly above me, before shifting my palm over and cupping him. He twitched, groaning loudly as he ground down into my palm, and my own cock throbbed as I lifted my head to catch him in another kiss. 

“Fuck,” he mumbled, his lips still moving against mine, his hips bucking gently into my hand. I was hyper-aware of his other knee that was in between my legs, practically being able to feel the heat radiating off of it onto my crotch. I squeezed him once more through his jeans before fumbling one handed with the button and fly. “Wait,” he whispered, leaning on one hand so he could stop me with the other. 

“What?” I panted, my eyes locked onto his. He leaned up a bit further, his eyes traveling my body and stopping at the tented front of my trackies. I shifted my hips around on the floor, my cock throbbing from just him looking. He looked back up at me, running his thumb along my bottom lip before cupping my cheek. 

“I… I could…” he trailed off, his eyes still locked with mine. “I mean, I’ve never… like, with-- you know, but I know… the, um, logistics?” His voice squeaked at the end, his word all coming out slow as he tried to find the right words. 

I grinned at him, leaning up and pecking his lips again, “Nothing says romance like the word _logistics._ ” 

“Fuck off,” he groaned, laughing and shaking his head at me, slapping my cheek lightly with the palm that was still rested on it. I could already feel sweat forming in the small of my back, my clothes feeling impossibly tight as he stayed straddled on top of me. He leaned down and kissed me for another long moment, his hand moving over to my shoulder and slowly traveling down my chest. 

My breath caught in my throat when he reached the waistline of my trackies, his lips parting from mine as he stared deeply into my eyes. “Har-- Harry,” I stammered, my lip trembling at just the thought of whatever he was about to do. “You don’t-- I don’t want you to… rush…” My eyes closed, biting down on my bottom lip as he tucked his fingers underneath the waistband. I forced my eyes open again, only to find that Harry was still staring at me, then swallowed the lump in the back of my throat.

“You don’t want me to?” he whispered, raising a suspicious eyebrow at me. 

“I-- I don’t want you to be--”

“Cause it sure looks like you do,” he continued, leaning back a bit further and switching his gaze down to my hips, his fingertips gently tracing me through the fabric. I moaned loudly, bucking my hips up into his hand trying to gain more friction, his feathery touches like fire to me. He groaned at the sight, running his fingertips along for another second before grabbing the waistband of my trackies and boxers at the same time and roughly pulling them down. I lifted my bum up some, allowing the fabric to slide past, and my breath caught in my throat again as my cock sprung free. 

I blinked rapidly, my heart pounding in my chest, watching as Harry’s gaze flicked back to me for a moment. The air against my heated member was driving me mad, the throbbing becoming so much that it physically hurt, feeling like I might actually _die_ if Harry didn’t touch me in the next few seconds. I swallowed again, watching as Harry stared down at my flushed prick for another [long] second before finally wrapping his hand around it. 

“Fuck,” I hissed, my eyes slamming shut and bucking up into his fist. “Jesus Christ,” I moaned, my head thrashing back and forth a few times before I forced my eyes open, wanting to watch his expression. He seemed to be concentrating, his bottom lip sucked into his mouth as he gently stroked me, his wrist twisting at the top before sliding back down. I audibly winced, the grip he had on me too dry but I was too overwhelmed to say anything.

He seemed to notice my discomfort and he quickly looked back at me, his hand pausing with his fingers still wrapped around me, and switched his gaze back and forth a few times as I blinked at him. He twisted around so that his legs were curled up at my side, pushing himself up so that his face was hovered over my crotch and for a moment, when I thought he was about to take me in his mouth, I swear my heart stopped. 

I watched as he let a long line of spit fall into his grip, my heart pounding again as I watched, biting down on the inside of my cheek hard. He stroked me again, the grip he had on me now feeling like he most amazing thing ever, and my head thrashed to the side again as heat went all over my body. “Fuck, fuck,” I groaned, bucking up into his fist as he sped up. I was aware that he was breathing heavily too but I couldn’t think of anything except his fingers around me. 

I could feel the pull in the pit of my stomach and my eyes shot open, suddenly feeling like I was thirteen again and couldn’t hold my load for more than thirty seconds. I watched as he leaned back down, his lips capturing me in a rough kiss that was all teeth and sloppy, his hand still stroking me off. I moaned loudly, bringing my uninjured palm up and threading my fingers into his hair, pulling roughly at the roots causing him to match my moan. 

“I’m-- I’m gonna--”

 

* * *

 

Harry and I spent the rest of the day lounging around his flat, watching a few more episodes of Chopped before we had set out on something else. We had ordered take out for dinner, eating on the couch while watching some [boring] movie that he had put in, and by the time midnight had rolled around my eyes were heavy with sleep. We were both squeezed onto the chaise, my head resting against his shoulder and my arm draped over his chest, absentmindedly running my fingertips along his side as I blinked at the telly. 

He had his arm around my back, his hand pressed tightly into the small of my back, and one of his sock-covered feet was covering my bare ones. I was comfortable, almost too comfortable, and I could feel myself drifting off to sleep. I blinked my eyes open again, breathing in deeply through my nose, my senses being filled with all things Harry, before I angled my head up to look at him. 

“I should get going,” I whispered, watching as he looked down at me. 

He frowned, “Why?” 

“Because.” I chuckled quietly, pausing to yawn afterwards. “It’s late and… I’m tired.” 

“So?” He raised both eyebrows at me, “Go to sleep then.” 

“Harry.” I rolled my eyes, nuzzling my head against his shoulder and gripping his side tight. “I can’t just stay here.” 

“Why not?” He challenged, a grin spread across his face, his fingers rubbing small circles into my back. I shifted my hips further into the cushions, running my fingertips along his side again as I smiled at him, knowing that I would miss being this comfortable as soon as I left. 

“...Because,” I finally answered, not having a particularly good reason for leaving. 

“Please?” he asked, leaning down and kissing my temple before smiling at me. 

“You really are a clingy shit, you know that?” I laughed quietly, though made no move to get up. He smiled brightly at me, not defending himself, and instead pressed another kiss to my temple before fixing his gaze back on the television. I let my eyes close for a moment, breathing in deep as I thought about his offer but finally convinced myself that I really did need go home. I opened my eyes, staring at his profile for a moment before whispering, “I can’t stay.” 

“Gimme a reason,” he said, rolling his head back over to look at me. 

“Because,” I groaned, “if I roll over in the middle of the night and you're just… laying there, lookin’ like… like that,” I explained, watching as the grin spread further across his features. “I don’t think I could stop myself.” 

Harry leaned his head down closer to my face, breathing hotly in my ear as he asked his next question. “Who’s stopping you?” 

I shivered, digging my fingertips into his side again and nuzzling my face into the crook of his arm. We laid there for another moment, the arm that he had wrapped around my back pulling me tightly against him. I closed my eyes, thinking for another moment about staying, but finally sighed and sat up. I patted his leg, willing him to move, and he groaned loudly before swinging his legs off the chaise and standing up. He reached back, grabbing onto my hand gently and pulling me up, then reaching down and grabbing up my shoes and handing them to me. 

I smiled at him, taking the shoes into my hands before pecking his lips once more. We walked over to the front door, him scratching at his scalp for a moment before pulling the door open, leaning against it as he stared at me. I paused in the doorway, pressing one last kiss to the corner of his mouth. 

“Goodnight, Harry.” 

“Goodnight, Louis.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii my lovelys! 
> 
> How is everybody?! Nice fluffy chapter for you guys =) 
> 
> First off, I want to apologize that it took me a few days to update! I know you guys are used to pretty much daily updates when it comes to this story, so, I... suck. You want to hear my excuses? No? I didn't think so. l won't bore you with them. Secondly, I want to tell you HOW FUCKING AMAZING you guys are! You all are seriously like the most AWESOMEST people on the planet! You say such BEAUTIFUL things to me that just make me fangirl ALL OVER THE PLACE. I'll never get over you. I never WANT to get over you. 
> 
> Thirdly, I want to WARN YOU that I'm a weeeeeeee bit behind when it comes to writing (Hence the few days it took me to update.) because... oh, right, I told you I wasn't going to bore you with my excuses. Right. Um, well, I plan to spend my weekend writing like a mad woman! So don't worry! I will be updating again on FRIDAY. Two days. I PROMISE. 
> 
> Totally not related to all of ^^^^ that, I had a My Cubicle Life moment the other day that I have to tell you guys about! For whatever reason, me and my roommate/biffle decided to travel to the not-so-local Ikea (IDK why. Seriously. We HAVE enough furniture. If anything, we have too much as it is. IKEA IS A DISEASE.) and while I was there, spending money on thing I DON'T need, I decided to buy a new desk. Because the one I had before was SO TINY and would not fit all of my... crap. So then we had to put that shit together, and let me just tell you, I'm a BOSS. Unlike Harry, I got that shit put together in less than an hour and it is PERFECTION. You jealous? Be jealous. [Click here to see MY Bob The Builder skillz.](https://24.media.tumblr.com/6cdc341dd4c7e8bd0de0dac0e0b7fc74/tumblr_n065h1pKdH1s8zwceo1_500.jpg)
> 
> =) Can you tell how proud I am? 
> 
> Okay. Let me stop. I LOVE YOU ALL. 
> 
> **HUUUUUUUUUUUUGE, GIANT, OVERSIZED, JUMBO, FAT SHOUTOUT TO THESE WONDERFUL PEOPLE WHO ARE THE WIND BENEATH MY WINGS: Eden, DiamondD, Entice (You mean the world to me!), Ted, London_Calls, niallersdirtymofo, Hanni_mikk, my BEAUTIFUL WIFEY LouisLoves, BeautifulPeopleLarry, jacktheminiatureslayer and theunknownfish. I LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH.**
> 
> Kk. I've wasted your time long enough. SEE YOU ON FRIDAY. 
> 
> BYEEEEEEEEEEEE.


	20. Leave The Cooking To Me

The next two weeks went by like a blur to me, working during the day and then spending my nights at Harry’s flat, either curled up on the couch watching some awful movie he picked or making out shamelessly against any surface in his flat. I had spent so much time at Harry’s lately that I felt like I hadn’t even been home at all. Niall had been working out of a separate location this week, helping out one of our other teams, so I had barely seen him either.

I had stopped at the grocery store on the way home from work tonight, to pick up something for Harry and I to eat, but when I was waiting in the queue to check out my phone buzzed. 

_I gotta work late tonight =(_

I frowned down at my phone, moving forward in the queue before tapping out my response. 

**But… you were going to make me dinner…**

_Sorry, babe… can’t get out of it._

**But I already stopped at Tescos!!!!!**

_=( Trust me… I’d much rather be at home with you!_

_I’ll see you in the morning, yeah?_

**Fiiiinnnneeeee :( :( :(**

I sighed loudly to myself, slipping my phone into my pocket as I finished up paying at the register; the food now pointless since I wouldn’t be cooking it. I couldn’t help but feel disappointed the entire way home, even though I had been spending every waking minute with Harry, I was still expecting to finishing watching our movie tonight. 

Maybe I was the one becoming a clingy shit. 

I trudged up the stairs, the white plastic bag from the store held tightly in my right hand, stopping for a moment to peer at Harry’s door in the hallway. I sighed quietly to myself, turning towards my door and unlocking it before stepping into the flat. I stopped at the dining table to put all of my stuff down, peering over into the living room to see Niall sprawled out on the couch, beer in one hand and remote in the other. 

“Honeyyyy, I’m home!” I sang out, smiling brightly at him. His eyes flicked over to me before wordlessly bringing the beer up to his lips and taking a long sip. I loosened my tie, removing it from my neck entirely and draping it carelessly over one of the dining chairs. “Are you hungry?” I asked, peering over my shoulder back at Niall. 

“Meh,” he replied, shrugging slightly and keeping his eyes fixed on the telly. 

“Hmm?” I pressed, untucking my shirt and looking back over at him. 

“I guess.” He shrugged again, a blank expression across his face as he blinked at the screen.

“Are you okay?” I frowned, noticing how short his answers were with me. 

“Yup,” he responded, his tone just as expressionless as his face. I chewed the inside of my cheek a minute before heading down the hallway, needing to change out of my work clothes. When I returned to the living room, now dressed in loose footy shorts and a white tshrit, I found Niall in the exact same position as he had been before. 

I walked over to him, sitting down on the arm of the sofa, then stared at him for a moment. “How was work?” I asked, both eyebrows raised and trying to sound cheery. 

“‘Sokay,” he mumbled, slouching down further into the couch until his neck was bent in an awkward position against the cushions. 

“It’s been so quiet at the office without you there,” I said, smiling brightly at him even though he wasn’t looking my way. “I’ve _actually_ been able to get some work done!” I beamed, laughing slightly afterwards. My laughter soon faded though when he didn’t respond, causing another frown to form on my face. “Niall?” 

“What?” he asked, his tone still flat and avoiding my gaze. “Glad you got some work done.” 

“I was just kidding,” I muttered, scratching at my bent knee as I tried to think of what was wrong with him. Niall was always in a good mood, even in situations when most people would be stressed, he was always his same cheery self. Whenever he wasn’t though, he was always quick to tell me what’s wrong or what he wanted me to do; this time, he was silent. 

That concerned me. 

“You sure you’re okay?” I asked, my tone barely above a whisper. 

“I’m fine, Louis.” He abruptly stood up, slamming his empty beer bottle down on the table before leaving the room. I followed him with my eyes, watching as he ran his fingers through his messy blonde hair as he stepped back into the kitchen, beer bottles clanking together before he harshly shut the fridge. I kept my eyes locked on him as he came back into the living room, his gaze cast down on the ground as he shuffled past me and resumed his position on the couch. 

“I, um,” I stammered, “I stopped at Tescos and got some chicken… and some potatoes,” I continued. “I thought maybe you could, um… cook them up? And we could have dinner together?” 

“I don’t want to cook,” he mumbled, avoiding my gaze altogether. 

“Oh,” I whispered, nodding slightly. I stared down at my lap, my fingers fidgeting together as I swallowed the lump in the back of my throat. I hated that I was at a loss for words; I was such shit at comforting people that I couldn’t even figure out what was wrong with him. I chewed the inside of my cheek, picking at a loose thread at the hem of my shorts, trying to think of what to say next. “I could order us something?” 

He shrugged, “Whatever you want.” 

I frowned, staring at the side of his face, watching as he blankly stared at the telly. “Or I guess _I_ could always try and cook the chicken,” I said thoughtfully. He didn’t respond. I sighed quietly, standing up and grabbing the bag from the dining table before heading into the kitchen. I removed the chicken from the bag, setting it on the island and staring at it. 

I had _no idea_ what I was doing. 

I flipped the package over, wondering if maybe it came with cooking instructions. 

It didn’t. 

I bit my bottom lip, blinking at the package again for a moment before opening the fridge and grabbing a beer. I twisted the cap off, sending it flying towards the bin, before hopping up onto the counter and staring at the unopened package of chicken. I took a long sip from the bottle before bringing it back down, wringing the bottle between my fingertips as I stared at it. 

The sounds of the telly were the only ones in the flat, and the overall silence of the situation started to get to me. I set the beer down on the counter, hopping off and digging through one of the cabinets for a pan. I grabbed the chicken package, spearing the plastic with a butter knife (Because it’s the first utensil I found.) before dumping all of the pre-chopped pieces into the pan. 

I turned the heat on, opening a separate cabinet that Niall kept all our spices in. I stood back, my hand resting on the cabinet door, staring at all the different bottles in front of me. I blinked a few times, reading all the labels and trying to figure out which of them he used for chicken. I chewed it over for a moment before reaching forward and grabbing the cayenne pepper, knowing that Niall liked everything spicy, and I flipped the top open and shook a bunch out overtop of the chicken chunks.

I coughed, realizing that I maybe put too much, before shrugging to myself and replacing the bottle. I grabbed the salt and pepper, sprinkling some of that overtop of the chicken as well, the chicken starting to sizzle in the bottom of the pan as it heated up. I stared at one of the smaller bottles in the front, squinting to read the label. 

_Mustard seed_

I thought it over for a moment. I liked mustard, Niall liked mustard, I don’t see where the problem is. I grabbed the container, flipped the cap open and dumped some onto the chicken. With the same knife I had used to spear the plastic with, I moved the chicken chunks around in the pan, coughing again when cayenne pepper filled my senses. I noticed that the chicken was starting to stick to the bottom of the pan and I frowned, going over to the pantry to find the bottle of oil. 

I stared blankly at the pantry, reading the different labels. 

Canola Oil.

Olive Oil.

Vegetable Oil. 

Sesame Oil. 

Why the fuck were there so many different kinds? 

“Niall?” I called out, pausing with my hand outstretched to one of the bottles, listening for a response. “What kind of oil do I use?!” I called out again, my tone louder this time as I assumed he hadn’t heard me before. 

Silence. 

Groaning to myself, I picked up the closest bottle (Sesame.) and returned to the sizzling pan. I unscrewed the cap, dripping some of the oil into the pan before scooting all of the chunks back around with the knife. I frowned at the pan, realizing that nothing about it looked right, but told myself it’s because it wasn’t done yet. 

I went back to the Tesco bag and removed the potatoes, bringing out another skillet and setting it on the burner next to the chicken. I turned the burner on, grabbing a cutting board from the dishwasher and a sharper knife from the drawer. I cut a few of the potatoes into chunks and slid them into the pan, dropping the cutting board into the sink afterwards. I grabbed the same seasonings that I had used for the chicken and sprinkled them overtop of the potatoes, quickly grabbing the bottle of sesame oil when I realized I had forgot that again. 

“Learned from my mistakes!” I declared proudly to myself. 

I returned to my beer, leaning against the counter and watching proudly as my food cooked, bringing the bottle up to my lips and taking a few sips of the cold liquid. Afterwards, I stirred the chicken around a bit with the knife, but frowned when I realized the potatoes weren’t cooking right.

The next ten or fifteen minutes went by about the same, and when I finally deemed my food to be done, I grabbed two plates from the cupboard and divided up the food into two portions. I grabbed silverware, pausing to pin an unopened beer in the crook of my arm, before grabbing the plates and heading towards the living room. 

“Look!” I beamed, setting the plates down on the coffee table. I looked over at Niall, a proud expression on my face, and watched as he slowly raised an eyebrow; blinking at the plates of food. “I made all of this!” 

“Why the fuck is the chicken red?” he asked, cocking his head to the side. 

“Oh, um.” I paused, “I went a little heavy handed on the cayenne.” 

“Why?” 

“Because… you like spicy stuff…” I trailed off. 

“What else did you put on it? It smells weird.” 

“I don’t know.” I shrugged, “Chicken spices.” 

He slowly nodded, sitting up straight and taking one of the forks from my outstretched hand. I sat down on my knees next to the table, leaning against it as I watched him. He poked the chicken a few times with his fork before cutting off a small piece and bringing it up to his nose, inhaling deeply before grimacing and pulling the fork away. 

I frowned, “What?” 

“It smells... _off._ ” 

I shrugged, “So?” 

He slid the piece of chicken off of his fork, back onto the plate, before poking the potatoes a few times. “And these are still raw.” 

I frowned deeper, “Oh…” 

“Did you boil them first?” 

I hesitated, “No…” 

Without even looking at me, he set the fork back down on the plate and stood, shuffling past me and heading down the hallway. I blinked a few times at the two plates, my eyes burning slightly as I took his criticism harder than I should. I cut off a small piece of my chicken before popping it in my mouth, chewing twice before spitting it back out onto the plate, my mouth on fire from all the spices I had put on it. 

I twisted the cap off my beer and quickly took a sip, grimacing loudly afterwards. 

I sat back on my haunches, staring sadly down at my lap as I realized what a failure at cooking I was. I chewed the inside of my cheek for a moment before standing, leaving the crap plates behind as I padded down the hallway after Niall. I stopped at his door, knocking once before cracking it open, peering my head around to look at him. 

He was sitting on the other side of his bed, his back facing me, and I stared at him for a moment before speaking up. “Niall?” 

“What?” he asked, his tone quiet but snappy. 

“Do you want me to, um… order… food?” 

“Just leave it alone, Louis.” Niall groaned, leaning forward and running his hands through his hair. “Can you shut my door?” 

“Oh.” I nodded, caught off guard by his statement. “Um… yeah, okay.” I slowly backed out of his room, pulling the door shut as I went. I stared sadly at the door, my eyes burning again and not knowing what to do. I suddenly lost my appetite, wishing that I knew what it was that made Niall so angry at me. I turned around, quietly stepping into my room and closing the door, sitting down on the end of the bed and staring down at my feet. 

My fished my phone out of my pocket after sitting there for a few minutes, bringing up my texts to Harry and typing out a message to him. 

**I think Niall’s mad at me :(**

I waited, watching the screen for the typing bubble appear next to his name but after a few minutes I realized that he wasn’t going to respond. I sighed loudly, slipping my phone back into my pocket and standing, heading back towards the kitchen to brew Niall a cup of tea as a peace offering. I paused in the living room, silently turning the telly off before stepping into the kitchen, flipping the kettle on and then dumping the two skillets into the sink. 

Once I had prepared him tea the way he liked it, I quietly padded back down the hallway and hesitated at his door for a moment before knocking; waiting for him to say something before going in this time. I creaked the door open and quickly spoke up, “I, um… made you a cup of tea.” 

He sighed, leaning back into the headboard of his bed, nodding at me to come in. I silently stepped towards his bed, setting the mug down on the bedside table before turning to leave. “You goin’ to Harry’s?” His words came out bitter, stopping me in my tracks, and I slowly turned back around to face him. He had the back of his head resting against the wall, his arms draped over his stomach and his knees bent up towards him, a frown across his face as he stared up at the ceiling. 

“No.” I finally responded, my voice coming out small. 

“Shocker.” 

I frowned, “Is that why you’re mad?” 

“I’m not mad,” he huffed, his eyes still avoiding mine. 

“You… seem mad.” 

“Yeah, well, I’m not.” he snapped, rolling his eyes and turning his face away from me, staring towards the window on the other side of the room. 

I blinked a few times, not knowing how to respond to him. “Harry is, um, working late… so I figured that we could hang out? But… I guess you don’t want to.” 

“Right,” he huffed again, shaking his head. “Nice to know I’m your second choice.” 

I was taken back by his words, my lips parting to say something but I was at a loss. The room was so silent that you could hear a pin drop and he was still glaring out the window. I swallowed the lump in my throat, “You know that’s not true.” 

“Whatever.” 

“Niall, come on,” I murmured, taking a step towards his bed. “Why would you even say that?” 

He turned his head towards me, giving me a stale expression when his eyes locked onto mine. I swallowed again, chewing the inside of my cheek hard as I looked at him. He looked down at his lap, seeming to think it over for another moment before finally speaking. “I just… I didn’t think you’d be _so quick_ to replace me, that’s all.” He shrugged slightly, his words coming out dry as he continued to avoid my eyes. 

“ _Replace_ you?” I repeated, taking another step forward and slinking down onto the bed next to his hip, wrapping my arm around his bent knee and leaning my face down to look into his eyes. “Niall, I could never _replace_ you with anybody.” 

“Yeah right,” he groaned, looking up at me and huffing. “You’ve only been with this dumb bloke for like, what, a week? Two weeks? And you’ve _already_ replaced me.” 

“That’s shit,” I responded, my tone soft and barely above a whisper. “You _know_ that’s shit.” 

“Whatever, Louis. Thanks for the tea,” he mumbled, turning his head away from me again. I frowned, that was the second time tonight he had said my name in a spiteful manner. I reached my free hand up and cupped his chin, forcing him to look back at me. 

“Niall, there’s… there’s nobody in the world that could ever replace you,” I whispered, stumbling with my words but getting them all out. My heart pounded, not expecting this to be what was upsetting him. He stared back at me with sad eyes, tugging his chin away from my grasp to look away again. “You’re _the only_ best friend that I’ve ever had.” I pointed out, my tone still soft. “That I’ve ever _wanted._ ” I added. 

He sat silently, listening to my every word, his eyes still avoiding mine. I didn’t know what to say now; this was always the part that he _told me_ what he wanted, but instead he continued to sit there silently. “Muffin,” I cooed, reaching up and running my fingers through his hair, scratching at his scalp a bit. He didn’t pull away, but his expression remained blank. “Please don’t be mad at me.” 

“I’m not _mad_ , Louis.” He finally responded, ducking his head away from my fingers. I sighed quietly, replacing my hand in my lap, my other arm still wrapped around his knee. “I’m just… I’m just upset, okay?” 

“But you don’t have to be upset,” I whispered, frowning at him when he looked over. “My… thing with Harry is… it’s completely different than what you and I have,” I continued, stumbling with some of the words. “You know that you-- that you’ll always come first, right?” 

Silence. 

“Like, no matter what happens with Harry, you’ll _always_ be my number one,” I said, swallowing harshly afterwards. My heart continued to pound in my chest, scared that I wouldn’t be able to find the right words to make Niall believe me. 

“It doesn’t seem like it,” he mumbled, looking down at his lap. I sighed again, running my fingers through my hair as I chewed on my bottom lip, completely at a loss for words now. Niall must have sensed it; even in his current state he still knew his role in our friendship. Still knew that I was absolutely _horrid_ at comforting.

“I just-- can you like…” he paused, clicking his tongue in thought for a moment. “Look, I know I’m being a big vagina right now,” he groaned, “but can you just like, not be gone _all_ the time?” 

I smiled at him, “I can do that.” 

“And, like, don’t… make me feel like this is all one sided.” 

I frowned, “One sided how?” 

“Like...I know that you, you know, care about me and shit… but I feel like _sometimes_ I put… more effort into things.” 

“Like what?” 

“Like making sure that you’re okay or that you’re happy… and fed… and that you talk when you need to talk. Sometimes I feel like it’s all me when it comes to that shit… that you don’t put as much effort into being my mate.” 

His words stung, not realizing that I had been making him feel that way. “I’m sorry,” I said, looking away from him and down to my lap; feeling ashamed that I was a horrible friend. He patted my hand twice that was wrapped around his leg, causing me to look back up at him. 

“You don’t have ‘ta be sorry,” he said, shrugging. “Just… stop being a dick.” 

I laughed, thinking it over for a moment before lunging forward at him, knocking him over as my arms wrapped tightly around his back in a forceful hug. He yelped, not expecting my sneak-attack of love, but then laughed as he roughly pushed me off of him, causing me to land flat on my back on the other side of the bed. I chuckled quietly, my feet draped over his outstretched legs, staring up at the ceiling. 

“Do you think I’m a vagina?” he mumbled, causing me to lean my head up to look at him. 

“A little bit.” I chuckled quietly, “But you have the right to get upset every now and again.” 

“Ugh,” he groaned. “I feel like I need to put a tampon in or something.” 

I rolled my eyes at him, “You’re always so classy.” 

We sat in silence for a few moments after that, Niall leaned up against the headboard in his previous position while I still laid flat on my back, my arms stretched out far to both sides. “What the fuck did you put on that chicken?” he finally asked. I groaned loudly, covering my face with both hands as he laughed. “It smelled like fucking dog food!” 

“I don’t know!” I cried, my hands still hiding my face. “I had to wing it!” 

“Can you do me a favor then?” he asked, still chuckling quietly. 

“What’s that?” I leaned my head up to look at him again, my hands now on my chest. 

“Leave the cooking to me.”

 

* * *

 

I was woken up from my slumber that night when I felt a hand on my stomach. I shifted around a bit, becoming more awake when I realized that somebody was pressed up against my back, their breath blowing hotly against the back of my neck. I breathed in deeply through my nose, smelling all things Harry, letting a smile creep onto my face as I shifted my body further back towards him. 

“Shh,” he hushed, pressing a soft kiss just below my ear, “go back to sleep.” He wrapped his arm further around me, nuzzling his face into my neck, intertwining my barefeet with his. 

With my eyes still closed, I brought one of my hands down to my stomach and covered his. “What’re you doing here?” I whispered, goosebumps forming on my exposed skin when he pressed another kiss to the back of my neck. He hummed softly, tightening his grasp he had on me, pulling me closer to him. 

“I missed you,” he whispered back, tilting his head to kiss my shoulder blade before nuzzling his face back down into my neck. 

I chuckled quietly, lacing my fingers over the backs of his, “You just saw me last night.” 

He let a puff of air leave his nose, it blowing out against my neck causing me to shiver slightly. “Don’t judge me,” he whispered, kissing the back of my neck in two different places, another grin sneaking onto my face. I blinked my eyes open, taking in the darkness of my room. 

“How’d you get in?” 

“I have my ways.” He mumbled into my neck, causing another shiver to run through me. “Are you cold?” he whispered, pulling the duvet up a little higher around us before replacing his hand on my stomach. I shook my head no, craning my neck to the side to allow him more space to snuggle up closer. I removed my hand from his, blindly feeling back towards his hip, frowning when my fingertips came in contact with the soft material of his trackies. 

“Why aren’t you naked?” 

He laughed against me, “I wasn’t going to sneak into your bed naked.” 

“Why not?” I asked, pinching him low on his hip before letting my hand fall back down to the mattress, a smile still etched onto my face. 

“Because,” he chuckled. “You were asleep. I think that’s… rape.” 

“Meh,” I muttered, “you’re too considerate.” 

Though I couldn’t see it, I could practically feel him rolling his eyes at me. “Go back to sleep,” he whispered, rubbing soft circles onto my stomach with the backs of his fingers. I laid there for a moment, blinking into the darkness, focusing on his breath against my skin. I brought my hand back to his, rubbing my thumb along his knuckles a few times before rolling towards him, his hand sliding from my stomach to my back in the process. 

“Mm’not tired now.” I grinned, snaking my arms around him, leaning forward and kissing his lips once before settling down against his chest. His arms wrapped around my back, hugging me tightly to him, then pressed a kiss to my temple. I breathed in deeply, feeling much more comfortable than I had been before. “You’re too...clothed,” I mumbled. 

“Shh,” he hushed again, running his hands up and down my bare back. I whined, sticking my hands underneath his shirt and sliding it up his chest until it was bunched around his arm pits. He groaned loudly, urging me to sit up and I happily did so, watching as he tugged on the back of his shirt and pulled it off. He laid back down, opening his arms and gesturing for me take up my previous position. I gave him a satisfied smile, laying back against him. “Better?” 

“Much,” I whispered, stroking affectionately at his cheek for a moment before lacing my fingers into his curls. I laid my head down against his now bare chest, still petting at his curls with my right hand, letting my eyes close as I tried to will myself back to sleep. When I felt as though his hair had been significantly pet, I forced my other arm underneath his back and linked my hands together, hugging his torso tight against me. 

“Talked to my mum earlier,” he whispered, after we had laid there in silence for a while. 

“Mmm?” I hummed, my eyes closed and my cheek rising and falling with his breathing. 

“She wants me to come home for my birthday,” he said, running his fingertips lightly against my spine.

“Oh,” I responded, tightening my grip on him, blinking my eyes against his chest. I chewed on the inside of my cheek, letting his words sink in. “How long would you be gone for?” I really had become a clingy shit. 

“Errmm… just this weekend.” 

“You should go,” I whispered, nuzzling my cheek further against him and sticking one of my barefeet under his legs. Silence fell back over us, his hands now still on my lower back, and I couldn’t help but feel disappointed at the thought of Harry leaving for his birthday. The last time he had come back from visiting his mum, he had shown up with that damn Blondie McFuckface. 

_Blondie McFuckFace._

“Harry?” I whispered, tilting my chin up to look at his face. 

“Hmm?” 

“Who was Blondie McFuckFace?” 

He chuckled, “Who?” 

“That stupid… woman that you um, brought to my party?” 

“Oh,” he said, dragging the word out longer than necessary. 

“Yeah.” 

“Errmm… she was just a… friend.” I raised an eyebrow at him, even though it was dark and he sighed quietly. “I, um… I asked her to come with me that night because…” he trailed off, rubbing his hands up and down my back again. “I-- I was scared that I’d, like, do something.” 

“What kind of something?” I asked, my tone quiet, my chin resting on his chest as I peered up at him. 

“Like… kiss you, something.” I blinked at him a few times, not knowing how to respond to that. “The whole time I was away for Christmas, all I thought about was you… and it scared me, because I was like, I don’t know. In… denial.” 

“Oh,” I whispered, my eyes trailing off to the side, not knowing how I felt about what he just said. 

“Hey,” he said, rubbing my back again. I looked back over at him and he smiled, “I’m… I’m sorry that I hurt you that night.” 

“It’s okay,” I whispered, smiling weakly at him. 

“No it’s not.” He shook his head, “You didn’t deserve that.” We locked eyes for a moment and I smiled a little wider at him, his hands still running up the full length of my back, all of my muscles underneath relaxing with his touch. “Come here,” he whispered. I scooted up his chest further until our lips connected, lacing my fingers back into his hair as we kissed softly. I pulled away, my face hovering over him and my elbow leaning against the pillow, staring down at him as he spoke up again. “I wanna ask you something.” 

“Go for it,” I whispered, pecking his lips once more. 

“I, um, I-- I want you to come with me.” 

I blinked at him, “With you where?” I asked, scratching lightly at his scalp with my right hand. 

“To...my mum’s.” 

My breath caught in my throat, my eyes searching his. I swallowed the lump in the back of my throat, running my tongue along my bottom lip before finding my words. “Are… you sure?” My heart was pounding, the thought of Harry wanting me to meet his mum making my cheeks heat up. 

He smiled at me, leaning up and pecking my lips, “Of course I’m sure.” 

I bit my bottom lip, my fingers still sorting through his messy hair, my face hovered over his. “Then of course I’ll go,” I whispered, watching as the smile grew even wider across his face. We kissed once more before he silently urged me to lay back down and I couldn’t help but smile into his chest, locking my fingers back together and hugging him close. 

“Goodnight, Louis.” He whispered, kissing the top of my head before pulling the duvet up tighter around us. 

“Goodnight, Harry.”

 

* * *

 

When Harry and I got off of the train in Cheshire two days later, I couldn’t help but let the nervous butterflies return to my stomach. I was nervous to meet Harry’s family; nervous of what they’d all think of me. No matter how nice his family could _possibly_ be, I would always be the boy that turned their son _gay._

It would be hard for them _not_ to judge me. 

Because of that, I felt sick. 

Sensing my nerves, Harry reached out and grabbed my hand as we were walking off the platform. I looked over at him and smiled, squeezing his hand tighter as we walked. He had my small duffle bag hung over his shoulder, refusing to let me carry it, and his mum was supposed to meet us outside the train station. 

I chewed on the inside of my cheek as we pushed through the crowds of people, his hand squeezing mine tightly but even that couldn’t take away all of my nerves. I looked around when we got out of the train station, though not knowing what exactly I was looking for since I had never met his mum, and I finally looked over at him as he searched through the parking lot. 

He let go of my hand, readjusting the duffle on his shoulder, when suddenly a voice came through from the other side of the lot. “Harry!” We both turned at the same time, my eyes flashing over to his as a wide smile grew across his face. I flicked my eyes over to his mum, who was walking towards us in between the parked cars, swallowing the lump in the back of my throat as I mentally prepared my greeting. 

“Just one thing,” Harry whispered, leaning down to speak directly in my ear. 

“What’s that?” I asked, turning my face towards him and smiling. 

“I didn’t exactly, um, tell my family… who you are?” 

“She doesn’t know I’m coming?!” I angrily whispered, glaring over at him. 

“No, no.” He shook his head, “She knows you’re coming… but… she doesn’t know we’re, um… you know.” My heart sank, blinking at him as I bit down on my bottom lip hard, disappointment running through my body instantly. I looked over at his mum, who was only a few meters away, before flicking my eyes back at Harry. “So, if we could like, um… not… say anythi-- Hi, Mum!” 

Fuck me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HIIIIIIIIIIII GUYS! 
> 
> How is everybody?! 
> 
> Did you watch the Midnight Memories video? Let me just tell you, the whole time I was watching it, I was like O_O WHAT IS HAPPENING?! It was so random and beautiful and just perfect. Is everybody excited for the weekend?! I made some... poor life decisions yesterday and because of them, I'm not feeling too hot toady =( So I guess I'll be FORCED to lay around on the couch and write all day... =) 
> 
> Thank you guys SOOOO much for being SOOOO awesome and loving this story so much! I love you all MADLY! 
> 
> **BIIIIIIIIIIG SHOUTOUT TO THESE AMAZING PEOPLE THAT I LOVE MORE THAN WORDS CAN DESCRIBE: BeautifulPeopleLarry, Ducky, jacktheminiatureslayer, larrydirectionmcflied, my wonderful Entice and my beautiful wife, LouisLoves!**
> 
> I'm dedicating this chapter to my baby-boo Entice, because she literally FORCED me to update. How someone can be SO PUSHY from thousands of miles away... 6 hours in the future... is beyond me =) LOVE YOU!
> 
> I will be updating again soon!!! BYYYYYYEEEEE.


	21. Joey & Chandler

“So, if we could like, um… not… say anythi-- Hi, Mum!” Harry cut himself off when he realized his mum was now within earshot. I blinked rapidly, my heart pounding, trying to force an incredibly fake smile onto my face as I watched Harry enthusiastically hug his mother. He pulled away, turning towards me with a bright smile on his face. “Mum, _this_ is Louis.” 

I felt like I had been punched in the gut. 

“It’s so nice to meet you!” she said, lightly pushing Harry away before wrapping her arms around me in a tight hug. When my senses returned to me, I politely kissed her cheek in greeting as we pulled away. “I’ve heard so much about you! I’m glad you were able to come up here with Harry!” I gulped, breathing in deeply through my nose. “It’s always nice to have his friends around!” 

_Friends._

I’m gonna throw up. 

I forced another smile onto my face, trying _not_ to appear as though Harry had just verbally punched me in the bullocks, clearing my throat before finally speaking. “Yeah, um, right. Yes. Thanks for, um, having me.” 

Smooth. Real smooth. 

I looked over her right shoulder, my gaze burning into Harry. He was swiftly avoiding my eyes, staring down at the cement as if it was the most interesting thing in the world. I returned my gaze back to his mum, the forced smile still plastered to my face. She either didn’t notice the tension between myself and her son or she was choosing to ignore it; because with a bright smile she continued talking. 

“Are you boys ready to go?” 

“Mhmm,” Harry hummed, still staring down at the the ground. 

“Yup,” I replied, my tone short and my eyes still narrowed at Harry. I watched as he wordlessly turned, draping his arm around his mum’s shoulders as we began to walk, leaving me to trail behind them. I stared at the back of his head, my feet moving me numbly across the pavement, suddenly feeling like an absolute fool for coming with him this weekend. 

I should have known this was going to happen. 

Of course he didn’t tell his family. 

I didn’t tell my family I was gay until I was halfway through uni. 

I stopped walking when we got to the car, watching as Harry slipped our bags into the boot before hesitating next to me. “Did you, um, want to sit up front? Or…” 

“The back is fine,” I replied quickly, staring at the red car ahead of me instead of at him. He hesitated for another moment before sliding around me, making sure not to touch me, before opening the passenger door and slumping down into the seat. I inhaled deeply through my nose, telling myself that everything would be okay (And that I _wasn’t_ going to throw up.), before getting into the backseat. 

“So, Louis.” His mum spoke up as we pulled out of the parking lot, “This is your first time in Cheshire?” 

“Yes, ma’am,” I said, staring down hard at my lap. 

“Are you originally from London?” 

“No, no.” I shook my head, picking at piece of lint that was stuck to my jeans. “I was raised in Doncaster. I didn’t move to London until after university.” 

“Oh, how nice!” she beamed, catching my eyes in the rearview mirror when I looked up. “And you like it there, yeah?” 

“Yes, ma’am,” I said, forcing another smile onto my face when I could still feel her eyes on me. 

“Oh, sweetie, call me Anne!” she insisted, smiling brightly as she reached over and patted Harry’s kee. “All of your friends are so polite! What happened to you?” 

“Hey!” he cried, “I’m always polite!” 

I chuckled dryly, more for his mother’s sake, before shifting my hips up and digging my fingers into the pockets of my jeans for my phone. I couldn’t believe this was happening right now; I was such an idiot. I don’t know what I expected this weekend to be, or how I wanted it to turn out, but the thought that Harry wasn’t _out_ to his family had never crossed my mind. 

I flipped the white iPhone around in my hands for a moment, lost in thought, before I unlocked the screen and bit down on my bottom lip hard as I clicked on Niall’s name. I scrolled bitterly to the bottom of the text, pulling up the keyboard and typing out my text message to him. 

**I’m gonna fucking kill him.**

_Already?????!!!!!_

**He’s not OUT to his family.**

_Oooooohhh……….._

**Yeah. We’re just “friends”**

**FRIENDS.**

**He didn’t tell me til we got off the damn train!!!!!!**

I hit the send button, chewing my lip hard as I glared out the window, waiting for Niall’s response. Harry and his mum were in the middle of a conversation that I couldn’t keep track of, updating each other on everything they had missed, and the longer I had to listen to his voice, the more I wanted to punch the back of his head. 

I wonder how his mum would respond to that. 

Would she screech and pull the car over? Demanding I get out of her son’s life? 

At least we weren’t too far from the train station. I could walk back from here if that happened.

I tried to remember how many turns we had made so far; just incase I had to go walking back. Harry laughed loudly at something his mum said and I glared at his stupid curly hair, feeling even dumber as the seconds ticked past. I noticed his mum staring through the rearview mirror again and I quickly switched my eyes to her, forcing another toothy smile on my face. 

Don’t worry, Anne. I’m not planning your sons death or anything. 

That’s right. Look away. Nothing to see here. 

My phone buzzed in my hand and I tore my eyes way, fixating them on the screen as I read Niall’s text response. 

_Sorry baby-cakes… that sucks a fat dick!_

_So you’re just goin’ to pretend your “FRIENDS”?_

**Yup.**

I responded bitterly, glaring hard at my phone, gripping the edges tightly with my fingers. I chewed on the inside of my lip, thinking over my next text for a moment before typing it out. 

**We’re goddamn PALS now.**

_You’re BUDDIES!!!_

**COMPANIONS.**

_ALLIES!_

**FUCKING ALLIES!!!!!**

I snorted out a breath of laughter, quickly slapping my palm over my mouth as I looked up, realizing that both Harry and his mum had stopped their conversation when I did so. Harry looked over his shoulder at me, raising a questioning eyebrow. “Sorry,” I mumbled, my tone quiet as I blinked back down at my phone, my lip twitching as I silently typed another text. 

**WE’RE CHUMS.**

_COMRADES!!!1111_

**CONFIDANTS.**

_Might as well start callin’ you and fuckhead JOEY and CHANDLER. Because you’re TOTALLY PLATONIC FRIENDS NOW._

I laughed loudly again before I could stop it, covering my mouth quickly as I tried to muffle my laughter. Harry looked over his shoulder again but I completely ignored him this time, staring hard at the typing bubble as Niall continued. 

_How YOU doin?!?!?!?!_

I grinned, trying not to laugh again at his Friends reference.

**At least you made me Joey.**

**He was always better than Chandler anyway.**

_BETTER THAN CHANDLER????? CHANDLER WAS THE FUNNY ONE!!!!!_

**Joey was the funny one, you twat.**

_But...Chandler had JOKES!!!!1_

**Joey WAS the joke.**

_You’re smokin’ crack!!!!!_

 

* * *

 

When we pulled up to the house a little while later, I stared blankly out the window as I took in my surroundings. Cheshire was much further out in the country than I had expected, the small town reminding me of something I would see on a television show. Their house sat at the end of a long driveway; white paneling with black shutters. 

The only thing missing was a goddamn picket fence. 

I followed Harry and his mum up the path and onto the large front porch, staring down at my shoes as Anne unlocked the door. Harry held the screen door open, gesturing for me to go in first, and I shuffled past him without even looking up. I paused in the foyer, looking around at the house before me, taking in the homey-smell and listening to the chatter coming from the kitchen. Harry stepped in behind me, setting our bags down on the wooden floor before shutting the door. 

“Gemma! We’re here!” Anne called out. I flicked my eyes over at Harry, who was still avoiding mine by staring down at the floor, and I rolled my eyes before toeing my shoes off; not wanting to drag any dirt in behind me. I heard footsteps coming from down the hall and I turned my head towards them,, watching as a tall, blonde hair girl appeared, a fluffy white dog hot on her heels. 

“Boots!” Harry cried, stepping past me with open arms, and for a moment I thought he was referring to his sister; it made more sense though when Harry scooped up the small dog, hugging it tightly to his chest as the dog licked all over his face. 

I almost smiled at it. 

“I see how it is.” The blonde girl laughed, walking the rest of the way towards us and smacking Harry on the back of his head. “You’re more excited to see the damn dog than you are your own sister!” I watched as Harry stuck his tongue out at her, nudging her with his hip as he continued hugging the dog close. “You must be Louis!” she exclaimed, smiling brightly at me. 

“It’s nice to meet you.” I smiled at her, shaking her hand when she had offered it to me. 

“I don’t know why you hang around this prat,” she said, nodding her head towards Harry. I flicked my eyes back over to him, watching as he held the dog out in front of him and proceeded to talk in a baby voice at it. (“Did you miss me? Yes you missed me. Awww, my wittle bootsie!” He was cooing.) 

I blinked a few times, switching my gaze back over at Gemma, who was staring at Harry with raised eyebrows. She turned her attention back to me, “He’s quite embarrassing, innit he?” 

“Very much so,” I agreed, my eyes flicking back over to Harry when I realized he was glaring at us. 

“Harry? Why don’t you show Louis where the guest room is, yeah?” Anne raised her eyebrows at Harry, who nodded in return before setting the fluffy dog back down on the floor. I watched as he patted the dog’s head one last time before turning and nodding for me to follow him. Sighing quietly to myself, while forcing another smile at Anne, I turned and followed Harry towards the staircase, my smile fading as soon as my back was turned to everybody else. 

Wordlessly, Harry grabbed up our bags and nodded his head up the stairs, silently urging me to go ahead of him. I stood unmoving, blinking at him as we stood at the bottom of the stairs, wanting so much to just… smack him. 

“Go on,” he whispered, nodding his head again. 

I groaned quietly, grabbing onto the banister and heading up the stairs, Harry following closely behind. I stopped when I reached the top, watching as Harry shuffled past me and headed down the hallway. I followed him, my barefeet padding against the cold wooden floor, stepping through the doorway into one of the bedrooms. 

I watched as Harry closed the door, his hand trailing on the doorknob for a moment before slowly turning around. I crossed my arms over my chest, standing close to the bed, watching as Harry scratched at the back of his neck with one hand. His eyes were cast down at the floor for another moment before he finally looked up at me. 

“Sooo… on a scale of one to ten, how mad are you?” he asked, his tone quiet and already staring back down at the ground. I narrowed my eyes at him hard, chewing the inside of my cheek as I refused to answer his question. He must have been able to feel my eyes on him because he finally looked up again and winced once he saw my expression. “Lou--”

“Save it, Harry.” I snapped, narrowing my eyes further at him. He sighed loudly, bringing both hands up to scrub at his face for a moment. I stood unmoving, my hands gripping my sides tightly as I glared at him, my heart pounding with everything I wanted to scream at him. 

“I’m sor--”

“I said save it!” I angrily whispered at him, not wanting anyone to be able to overhear our conversation. “How _dare you_ ,” I hissed, shaking my head at him. “You waited until the _very last second_ to tell me!” 

“I know--” 

“No!” I interrupted, “you could have told me _at any point_ but you _didn’t!_ ” 

“You wouldn’t have come!” 

“So you tricked me,” I huffed. 

“No.” He shook his head, closing his eyes for a moment. “I just-- I needed you to come with me.” 

“Why?!” 

“Because! I didn’t want to be away from you.” He frowned, taking a step towards me and reaching out to grab onto my arm. I quickly backed up, making sure his outstretched hand missed me, holding my palms up at him, silently telling him to stop. “Please don’t be mad, babe.” 

I huffed again, “I’m sick of hearing that.” 

“Hearing what?” He frowned. 

“ _Don’t be mad_ ,” I repeated, “that’s all you ever say!” 

“Well... you’re always mad at me,” he whispered, looking down at the ground again. I let a long puff of air leave my lungs, feeling like my whole body was deflating with it. I took a hesitant step towards the bed and sat down at the end of it, leaning far forward and resting my forehead against the palms of my hands. I blinked down at the ground as I listened for any movement from Harry.

We sat in silence for a moment, my heart beating rapidly in my chest as his words echoed in my head. It did seem like we were always fighting and I couldn’t help but wonder if our relationship was always going to be this complicated. “You knew I was going to be upset,” I mumbled, still staring down at my barefeet. “You _knew_ this was going to upset me and yet… you did it anyway.” 

“Yeah...” he squeaked. I looked up at him, my arms now resting on my knees. He was still standing near the door, his arms crossed over low on his stomach, chewing on his bottom lip as he stared at the floor. 

“Harry.” I sighed, waiting for him to look up at me before continuing. “I-- I _understand_ why you haven’t told your parents, okay? I get it. I’ve been there,” I said, my tone soft as I stared at him. “But I don’t… I can’t just act like I’m _your friend._ ” I let another puff of air leave my lungs as I watched him slowly nod, his eyes sad and still locked on mine “It’s… it’s a slap in the face to me.” 

“I know,” he whispered, his eyes trailing back down to the floor. 

“You could have avoided this whole situation if you had just left me at home.” 

He slowly nodded. 

“But… you brought me here anyway.” 

He nodded again. 

“ _Even though_ you knew I’d be upset.” 

Another nod. 

“That… that hurts even worse,” I whispered. He inhaled deeply through his nose, bringing his fingers up to tangle in his hair for a moment before scrubbing at his cheeks again. He looked over at me, his sad eyes locked onto mine and then took a hesitant step forward. When I didn’t stop him, he took the last few steps and crouched down in front of me, grabbing onto my hands with both of his; his elbows resting against my thighs. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, bringing my hands up and pressing a soft kiss to my knuckles. I swallowed the lump in the back of my throat, blinking sadly at him when I couldn’t think of anything else to say. He continued to stare up at me, “Do you believe me?” 

I sighed quietly, looking down to where he was holding my hands. “Harry, it’s-- it’s not a matter of me _believing_ you or not,” I whispered, watching as his thumbs swiped across the backs of my knuckles. I gulped again, feeling too exhausted to keep talking about this. More than anything, I wanted to go home; to the place where I _always_ felt comfortable. But I knew that for better or for worse, I was stuck here with him. 

As his _friend._

I looked up at him again, pulling one of my hands away from his grasp to brush a stray curl out of his eyes. He leaned his cheek further into my touch, his eyes closing in the process, and I forcefully swallowed again as I cupped his cheek. “I’m tired,” I whispered, watching as his eyes opened up and locked onto mine. I let my hand drop from his face, “Can we just… take a nap?” 

He nodded, softly placing my hands back in my lap before standing. I looked up at him, our eyes locking for a moment before he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to my cheek. I watched, in confusion, as he turned and headed towards the door, pausing to grab his bag before reaching out for the doorknob. “Where are you going?” I asked, causing him to stop and peer over at me. 

“I thought you… wanted to nap?” he asked, seeming confused. 

“Um, yeah.” I nodded, gesturing my hand out towards the other side of the bed. “So… let’s nap.” 

“I-- um, this… this isn’t my room, Lou,” he said, his words coming out slow. “My mum put you in the… guest room.” 

My heart sank. 

“So you’re not even sleeping in here?” I asked. 

“No…” he replied, his words coming out hesitant. “I, um, like…” he paused, “I mean, I think that’d look… weird, don’t you think?” 

“Weird. Right,” I huffed, looking away from him again. 

“Babe, that’s not what I meant.” 

“Whatever, Harry.” I chewed my bottom lip hard, staring towards the headboard of the bed, feeling even dumber than I had before. Of course we weren’t going to be sharing a room; we were _friends._

And according to him, that would be _weird._

“Lou…” 

“Just go, Harry.” I shook my head, still refusing to look over at him. 

After a few moments had passed, he finally spoke up again, his tone so quiet I almost missed it. “I’ll… wake you for dinner.” 

“Kay.” 

“Okay…” he whispered, then opened the door and left, pulling the door shut quietly behind him.

 

* * *

 

I never was able to fall asleep and instead had stared blankly at the ceiling, laying on top of the crisp white duvet, until Harry had come to wake me for dinner. I met his step-dad, who seemed just as polite as his mum was, and we had all sat around the dinner table to enjoy the feast that Gemma and Anne had made. 

I stared blankly at Harry, watching as he piled his plate high with ham slices, then dropped a gigantic spoonful of mash on top of it all. He grabbed the bowl of corn, spooning three large scoops of it overtop of everything else, creating an overflowing plate in front of him. I blinked a few times, watching as he shamelessly grabbed two rolls from the basket and set them on the table next to his plate.

It was only then that he must have felt everybody’s eyes on him, because he slowly looked up and flicked his eyes around the table. His cheeks heated, realizing that everybody was judging him, and he wordlessly picked up his fork and slowly dug it into his pile of food. Gemma laughed loudly, causing everybody to chuckle along with her. 

“You’re a fat shit!” she cried, leaning back in her chair as she laughed. He shrugged, grinning at her before taking a large bite off of his fork. The rest of the dinner went by quickly; I had spent a good amount of time talking to his step-dad about my company and what I had studied at uni, while Harry and Gemma bickered back and forth about who got to eat the last roll. 

“You’ve already had two!” she exclaimed. 

“But I’m a growing boy!” Harry countered. 

“Maybe Louis wants the roll?” Anne piped in, causing both Gemma and Harry to pause in thought for a moment. 

“Yeah, Harry! You’re being _rude_ to your friend!” Gemma pointed an angry finger at him. 

I never want to hear the word “friend” again in my life. 

“No, it’s okay, I’m full.” I finally responded, putting my palms up in front of me. 

“Exactly! So it’s mine!” Harry quickly butted in. 

“But I think Gemma should have it.” I spoke up again, sending a tight lipped smile in Harry’s direction. He frowned, realizing that was my passive-aggressive way of slapping him across the face. He sighed loudly, harshly pushing the basket towards Gemma before leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest. 

“I like you.” Gemma said to me, grinning as she picked up the roll, “You can stay.” 

“I want to apologize on behalf of my children,” Anne said, placing a hand on my shoulder. “I swear they had manners at one point.” She shook her head sadly at me. 

I smiled at her, “It’s okay. I come from a big family, I understand how it is.”

Anne was about to respond, but instead narrowed her eyes at Harry after he had pegged his balled up napkin in Gemma’s direction. “Harry,” she warned, causing him to look over and smile innocently at her. “Why is it that you two act like you’re five years old again when you’re together?!” 

I flicked my gaze back and forth between the two, watching as they glared playfully at each other before Harry looked back at Anne. “Because.” He shrugged, “Gemma smells like feet.” 

“You dick!” She threw the napkin back at Harry, who ducked his head out of it’s path, causing the napkin to fly past him and land on the floor. “At least _I_ don’t have dumb curly hair.” 

“Everybody loves my hair!” 

“Your hair is stupid.” 

“ _Your_ stupid.” 

“Your _face_ is stupid.” 

“Your _life_ is stupid.”

“Oooooh burn,” she replied, her tone dripping with sarcasm as she rolled her eyes. 

“Enough!” Anne cried, slapping her hand down flat on the table. “You haven’t seen each other since Christmas and you’re going to spend the whole time fighting?!” 

“Fighting?” They both replied at the same time, looking at each other for a moment before Harry continued. “We’re not fighting.” 

“Yeah, mum. This is how we show our _love_ for each other,” Gemma said. 

Harry nodded, agreeing with her for the first time today, “Exactly.” 

“Then why can’t you just _tell_ each other you love them?” Anne rolled her eyes. 

“Because,” Gemma said, shrugging slightly. “Harry’s stupid.” 

“Am not!” 

“Are too!” 

“Am not!” 

“Stop it!” Anne declared, slapping the table again, causing both of her children to shut their mouths. I stifled a laugh, not being able to help it, and watched as Anne harshly scooted her chair back. “Harry, help me clear the table.” 

“But _Muuuuuuum_.” 

“Harry!” 

“Fine,” he groaned, scooting his chair back and standing. As he gathered up a pile of dishes, I watched as his step-dad, Robin, thanked his mum for dinner before excusing himself from the table. I sat back in my chair, wordlessly staring at Harry as he picked up my plate to add to his pile. I crossed my arms low over my stomach, listening as Gemma made another sassy remark to Harry when he reached for her plate. 

He wasn’t out of the room for more than a minute before the sound of glass shattering echoed through, along with a girly screech coming from his lungs. The three of us left in the dining room all whipped our heads around to the kitchen door, watching as he sheepishly appeared completely covered in gravy. “Um… oops?” 

Anne groaned loudly, muttering under her breath as she walked over to Harry. “Go on then.” She swatted at his butt as she passed, presumably to clean up whatever mess it was that he had just made in her kitchen. 

“Gravy is an improvement from how you normally smell.” Gemma said casually when he had walked past us, hopefully heading towards the shower. I bit down on my lip, watching as Harry flipped Gemma off before walking away from us and down the hallway. I blinked at his back, watching as he stopped and glanced at me over his shoulder. I could see him sigh before heading up the stairs, my gaze falling down to my lap. 

I could feel Gemma’s eyes on me but I didn’t look up, not knowing what we were supposed to talk about while Harry was away. “So, Louis,” she said, causing me to look up at her. I raised my eyebrows at her, waiting for her to continue. “I’m really happy that you and my brother are… such good friends,” she said, smiling brightly at me, not realizing how much the word “friends” was a slap in the face. 

I swallowed, “Yeah, he’s um… he’s a good lad.” 

“It’s nice to see that he has friends again.” She continued smiling, “When he was home for Christmas, you’re all he talked about!” She laughed lightly and I couldn’t help the way my heart fluttered; even if I was still _very_ mad at him. “You and… Neil, was it?” 

“Niall.” I gently corrected. 

She nodded, “Niall! That’s right.” I watched as she reached forward and took a sip from her glass, lightly setting it back down on the table before she continued. “I try not to be an over-protective sister, you know, but I still tend to… worry,” she explained. I nodded, smiling slightly to let her know I understood. “He was in a really bad place when he... um, first moved there?” she continued, clasping her hands together on the table. Our [forced] polite smiles slowly faded as we both took in her words. 

“He, um… told me that you _know_ ,” she said, her tone now quiet as she stared down at her hands. “About Josie, that is.” I swallowed the lump in the back of my throat, the air between us suddenly feeling much more serious. I inhaled deeply through my nose, the conversation Harry and I had on the football field that one night flooding back to me. I winced slightly at the memory; his tear stained cheeks appearing in my mind. 

“Yeah.” I choked out, barely above a whisper. “He… yeah, he told me.” 

“I hope you know what a big step that was.” 

“Really?” I asked, raising my eyebrows at her. 

She looked up from her hands, smiling sadly at me. “Yeah. He doesn’t talk about it…” she trailed off, pausing for a moment before emphasizing her next word, “ever.” 

“Mmm,” I hummed, remembering the words he had yelled at me on the pitch that night; about how he never talked about, but he had told _me._ Then I had walked away from him, leaving him broken in the field. I pinched my eyes shut, trying to block out the horrible memory, wishing that I had stayed to comfort him that night instead of walking away. “He’s been through a lot, yeah?” I whispered, my hands fidgeting in my lap. 

“Yeah,” she hummed, nodding slightly before looking back up at me. “He completely shut down after it happened,” she continued. “He wouldn’t talk to any of his friends… would barely talk to me or mum.” She shook her head, casting her gaze back down to her hands. “He just… closed himself off from the world. Stayed in his room all day with the curtains drawn,” she said, her tone getting quieter with each word. I leaned forward, resting my elbows on the table and tracing an imaginary shape into the wood with my fingertip. “You know he didn’t even go to their funeral?” 

“What?” I snapped my head up, my finger hovered over where I had been tracing. My lips parted as I gave her a confused expression and she nodded sadly, avoiding my eyes again as she stared off to the side. “Why… why not?” I asked. 

She shrugged softly, “I’m not sure. I guess… it was too hard.” 

I swallowed the lump in the back of my throat, suddenly feeling an overwhelming sense of sorrow for Harry. I knew that what he had been through was traumatic for him, something that still clearly affected him today, but hearing first hand about how sad he was at one point was breaking my heart. I had forced myself not to think about it; forced the whole situation to the back of my head ever since he had told me that night. But now, here in his childhood home, talking to his sister who I had never met until today… it all seemed so surreal.

Like I could _actually_ feel the pain he had gone through in this house. I chewed on the inside of my cheek, blinking hard at my hands in front of me, suddenly wishing that Harry was next to me so I could grab onto his hand. We hadn’t ever talked about it again, but now that Gemma was painting this horrible picture for me, I wanted nothing more than to run upstairs and hug Harry as hard as I could. 

“He’s really gotten better though,” Gemma said, after we had sat lost in our own thoughts for a moment. “He laughs again now… talks to me about _normal_ things again, like work and… well, and you.” 

“Me?” 

“Yeah.” She nodded, catching my eyes again. “After it happened he pushed all of his friends away; doesn’t even talk to them anymore. That’s why it’s so… awesome that you and him are…” she trailed off, narrowing her eyes in thought at me. I suddenly felt self-conscious, like she was seeing straight through the facade Harry and I had going here. “...Friends.” 

I let a puff of air leave my lungs, suddenly relieved and realizing how crazy I was to assume she thought we were anything more. “The day he moved away, we were um, standing out there.” She nodded her head towards the front door, “Like, saying goodbye? And he told me that I better come visit him in London because he was _never_ coming back here.” 

I gulped, taking her words in. 

“My mum tried for _ages_ just to _talk_ to him, but he would always avoid her calls. Then he shows up here on Christmas, telling me about _you_ and how _you_ had told him to come back.” I blinked at her, listening intently as she spoke. She smiled at me, “You seem to get through to him.” 

“Yeah?” I squeaked, barely able to find my voice, completely overwhelmed by this entire conversation. 

“Yeah,” she agreed. “Now if you could just work on that whole _I love you_ thing.” 

My breath caught in my throat, my eyes widening at her. “Wh-- what?” 

“He won’t say it.” She shrugged slightly, still looking directly at me. “Ever since Josie-- well, you know. He… he won’t say it to anybody. Not me, not mum, not even to the dog,” she whispered. I watched as she visibly gulped, clearly torn up by the situation. “I was so worried when he moved away. I didn’t think it was… a good idea, you know, to move so far from home.” She continued and I nodded slightly, listening closely to her words. “He _really_ hated it there. I thought he wasn’t going to last two weeks.” She chuckled, though the memory was clearly not the funny to her. 

I thought back on my relationship with Harry and how… _not sad_ he always seems. I had never even known anything was _truly_ bothering him until that night on the pitch when he told me all about Josie. Even now, the past few weeks,, the _amazing_ few weeks we had together, he always seemed… cheery. 

Niall like, almost. 

It killed me to know how much he must be hiding from me. 

From the world. 

From _everybody._

I watched as she bit down on her bottom lip, avoiding my eyes for a second before flashing them back over to me. “He’d punch me for telling you this, but… he, um, used to like… cry to me at night when he first moved.” My breath caught in my throat again at her words, the image running through my mind of Harry laying in his bed, tears streaming down his face with his phone clutched tightly to his ear, Gemma being the only person that he had left to talk to. 

I brought my hands up to my face and scrubbed at my cheeks hard, willing the image out of my mind. “Sorry.” She spoke up, after a moment of silence had passed. “I-- I didn’t mean to make this so… grim.” I looked up at her, pulling my hands away from my face and blinking at her a few times. “Don’t tell him I told you that, yeah?” 

I slowly nodded, “I won’t.”

“I just… I just want you to understand how _thankful_ I am that you’re in Harry’s life now.” She smiled at me, a genuine smile unlike the sad smiles we had been exchanging. “He was just always so upset…” she trailed off, shaking her head. “But then he called me one night and told me about these crazy lads he met that lived ‘cross the hall,” she said, grinning at me. “He told me ‘bout how he scared one of ‘em half to death that morning and he had gotten a lamp thrown at a him.” 

I rolled my eyes, “I didn’t throw a lamp at him.” 

She grinned harder, “Mhmm. The point is… I don’t have much to worry about now,” she said, shrugging slightly afterwards. I gulped again, my throat feeling like it was constricting on itself. “He’s-- he’s my baby brother and I’m always going to _worry_ , but he seems so _happy_ now.” 

“Yeah?” I perked up. 

“Yeah.” She chuckled, “He’s… enjoying his life again. I can’t pretend that doesn’t have something to do with you.” My heart fluttered a bit, even though I still felt like I was drowning in sadness for him. The fact that I was clearly making an impact on him, making his life a little bit better, warmed my heart a bit. “You said you had siblings?” 

“Yeah,” I nodded. “Seven sisters… all younger than me.” 

“Good god!” She laughed loudly, “I can’t even imagine. It was just me and Harry growin’ up and I can’t tell you how many times I wanted to just… knock his lights out!” We laughed for a moment, the image of little curly-headed Harry flashing through my mind. “Then you understand, yeah?” she continued, “why I’m so thankful he has you?” 

“Yeah.” I nodded, “I get it.” 

“It’s our job to protect our baby siblings,” she clarified. “I don’t know what is that...you two having going on with each other--” I froze, my heart pounding as my eyes widened a bit, that feeling I had before creeping back to me; did she know? “--Or how you’ve managed to become such good…” she trailed off, giving me that same look she had before. My heart slammed in my chest, feeling like she _definitely_ knew something. “... _Friends_ in such a small amount of time.” She finally finished her sentence, but this time relief didn’t wash over me.

This girl must be a psychic. 

“But I’m glad you’re there for him,” she finished, smiling brightly at me again. 

I nodded, smiling at her as I scooted my chair back. “Can you, um, excuse me for a moment?” 

“Of course.” She waved me off, grinning at me as I stood from the table. I gave her one last smile before turning and heading down the hallway, grabbing onto the banister and heading up the stairs. I _needed_ Harry to know how much I cared for him; even if this situation he had stuck me in this weekend _was_ fucked up. 

I padded down the hallway, pausing in front of the bathroom door and listening, able to hear the water running from the shower. I put my hand on the doorknob, thinking of going in for a second before thinking better of it; knowing that Harry wouldn’t want that. I sighed quietly, looking down the hallway before silently heading towards his room. 

I slipped inside, closing the door before taking in my surroundings. I had never seen his room before but it was much different than the one he had in his flat. There was a twin bed pressed up against one of the blue walls, a tall black bookcase that was filled more with random trinkets and trophies than actual books, and next to a small writing desk was an acoustic guitar. 

I stepped over to the desk, picking up one of the picture frames that had been sitting on it and couldn’t help but smile at young Harry. His curls were much tighter back then, all piled up messily on the top of his head and his toothy smile was all crooked teeth and pink lips. I set the picture frame back down, smiling fondly at all the random notes spread out across the desk. 

I stepped over to the black bookcase, squinting my eyes at all of the trophies that were on the top shelf. They all appeared to be football trophies, except for one which appeared to be… karate? I stood on my tiptoes to grab it, examining it closer to find that I was right. I grinned, reaching back up to replace the trophy before sitting down on the end of the bed, waiting for Harry to finish up in the bathroom. 

I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees and began fidgeting my hands together, trying to think of what I was going to _actually_ say to Harry once he came in. I didn’t have much time to think it over though, because a second later the door swung open to a mostly naked Harry. My head snapped up, quickly standing up but my breath caught in my throat as I took in his form. He had a white towel hung loosely around his hips, his hand clutching it together on his side, but other than that he was naked. 

And dripping wet. 

My knees felt like jelly. 

My eyes raked down his body, staring down at his glistening abs and the v cut of his hips, before snapping then back up to his face where his wet curls hung loosely around his eyes. He seemed to be just as shocked as I was (Though for a totally _different_ reason, I’m sure.) and he looked behind him, down the hallway, before quickly shutting the door and whispering to me. “What’re you doing in here?” 

I watched as a particularly large droplet of water raced down from his neck, down his abs and then absorbed into the white towel. I blinked hard, my cock twitching in my jeans as I openly gawked at him. I tore my eyes away from his body to look back into his eyes, which were still locked onto mine. “Lou? Did you hear me?” 

“Um... n-no.” 

“What’re you doing in here?” He raised an eyebrow at me. 

“I… don’t remember.” 

His lip twitched before he broke out in a grin, chuckling at me before asking, “What?” 

My eyes raked down his front again, staring hard at where he grasped the towel, wanting to reach forward and rip it off of him. “I-- I can’t think of anything except how fuckin’ hot you are right now.” 

I switched my eyes back up to his face, watching as his cheeks turned pink before he groaned, “Looouuiiiee.” 

“Right, right,” I shook my head. “I, um… jesus, why the fuck did I come in here…” I trailed off, trying desperately to think of anything except how wet he was right now. My hands were shaking and I absentmindedly adjusted myself in my jeans, looking back over at Harry to find that he was staring at my crotch. 

“You, um, really don’t remember?” he asked, raising both eyebrows at me. 

“Oh! Right,” I said, then smiled sadly at him when my conversation with Gemma flooded back to me. “I… I just wanted to do this,” I whispered, stepping over to him and cupping his cheeks with both hands before pressing my lips against his. He moaned quietly into it, using his free hand to press into the small of my back, pulling me closer to him as we kissed. 

We finally pulled away, still standing close to each other and our eyes were locked together.“I thought you were mad at me,” he whispered. I swallowed the lump in the back of my throat, running my tongue over my lips before leaning back in and kissing him once more. I pulled away, pushing one of his wet curls out of his eyes, then let my hand rest on his shoulder. 

“I am,” I whispered, answering his question. “But… that doesn’t mean that I don’t… like you a lot.” 

I watched as a grin spread across his features, “Well, I like you a lot too.” 

“Good,” I mumbled, catching his lips again with mine. “Don’t forget that,” I said, my tone stern and looking directly into his eyes. He slowly nodded, probably confused by my random display of affection. I smiled at him once more, pecking his lips before pulling away from him completely, stepping around him and grabbing onto the door knob. I looked over my shoulder at him, our eyes connecting again. 

“I won’t,” he whispered. 

I let my eyes rake down his body one last time, groaning quietly as my cock twitched again. “I want to fuck you so bad right now,” I moaned. I watched as Harry blushed again, his lip twitching as he looked down at the ground, avoiding my ogling eyes. “Okay. Right,” I said, shaking my head, causing him to look back up. “I’m mad at you again.” I winked at him, watching as he grinned before I slipped out of his room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiiiiii everybody!!!! 
> 
> Nice LONG chapter there for you guys, yeah? Does that make up for the fact there were so many days in-between my updates?!?!? =D 
> 
> I love you guys so much and I'm SO HAPPY that you're all so SUPPORTIVE and UNDERSTANDING of the fact that I suddenly suck at updating! It's really not that I **suck** as much as I'm just... busy. I adore this story and I LOVE to write for it, but... work is... well, it's stressful. As is life, but I won't bore you with my lame excuses! Just know that I'm still writing for this story every day (Even if it's just a line or two!) and am trying _very hard_ to get back on track! 
> 
> BUT I SERIOUSLY LOVE YOU GUYS SO MUCH! I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I absolutely love Gemma in this chapter... anddddd for those of you that no longer live at home, I'm sure you can definitely relate to Harry's fatty ways with his mum's cooking! I always eat a DISGUSTING amount of food whenever I go home! 
> 
> **THE LARGEST OF SHOUTOUTS TO THESE AMAZING PEOPLE THAT ALWAYS LIFT MY SPIRITS: Entice (You're like my favorite person ever.), hanni_mikk, jacktheminiatureslayer, theunknownfish, my DARLING wifey LouisLoves, LouBear and BeautifulPeopleLarry! You are all SO sweet and say THE NICEST things to me and are all SO HILARIOUS!!!!! I can just NEVER get over how supportive you guys are!**
> 
> I'm going to try my very hardest to update on Thursday, but it might have to be pushed back to Friday... depending on how quickly I can write the next chapter =D 
> 
> LOVE YOU ALL!!!!!
> 
> BYYYEEEEE.


	22. I'm Feelin' Twenty-Two

I had been laying awake for about an hour the next morning, staring blankly at the ceiling above me as I tried to will myself back to sleep. According to the clock across the room, it was only half four in the morning but I was wide awake. It’s not even that the bed wasn’t comfortable; the queen size bed in the guest room was _much_ more comfortable than my own bed at home. 

I was just… awake. 

It bothered me that Harry was just down the hall, but yet he was untouchable. _Friends_ don’t share rooms, apparently, and I was trying _very hard_ to respect that. The house was silent, except for the quiet hum of the heater that was coming through the vent, but even that wasn’t making me tired. 

I rolled over onto my side, pulling my legs up against my chest and resting my head against my curled up arm. I stared across the room, blinking at the darkness for a few minutes before sighing and sitting up. I rubbed at my eyes, ran my fingers through my hair and then stood, the wooden floor cold on my barefeet. I had slept in my trackies, not feeling comfortable enough in the strange house to sleep in just my boxers, and I crouched down in front of my duffle bag to grab a jumper to slip on. 

I stood, shaking out the grey jumper before pulling it over my bare chest, tugging on the bottom until it sat comfortably around my hips. I twisted the doorknob and slowly pulled the door open, trying to be as quiet as possible, before poking my head into the hallway and looking both ways. I paused for a moment, listening for any movements before I stepped fully out of the room, quietly pulling the door closed behind me. 

I tiptoed down the hallway, opening up the bathroom door before stepping inside. Once I was done relieving myself, and washed my hands of course, I flipped the lightswitch off and pulled the door open; wincing when it gave off a loud creek. I paused in the hallway, looking back towards the guest room for a moment before switching my gaze towards Harry’s door. I chewed on the inside of my lip, realizing that everybody was _definitely_ asleep at this hour and _probably_ wouldn’t notice if I just snuck in… 

I thought it over for another minute, staring at the closed door of his room, before finally making the decision and tiptoeing my way closer. I stepped lightly, not knowing which floorboards were going to give off a loud creak, and I was thankful when I finally made it to his room. I paused, my hand on the doorknob, listening for any sound again before silently slipping inside. Once the door was closed, I turned around and couldn’t help but let a fond smile creep onto my face when I took in his sleeping form. 

He looked huge laying in the twin sized bed, the moonlight coming in from the curtains creating just enough light that I could take in his current appearance. He was sleeping flat on his back (I don’t know how he slept that way.) his curls sticking in all different directions and his mouth was parted slightly, quiet whistle-like snores coming from his lungs. The black duvet hung low on his hips, exposing his bare chest, and one of his arms was curled around the top of his head. 

I tiptoed over to the bed, crawling up onto the end of it and kneeing my way up towards him. I straddled his waist, my palms braced just to the side of his ribs, and I slowly bent down and pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. He stirred a bit, his eyes fluttering but not opening, his hips shifting underneath me. I smiled wider, leaning down and kissing the other side before pulling back, watching as his eyes slowly fluttered open. 

He blinked a few times to clear his vision, a grin spreading across his features. He inhaled deeply through his nose, his eyes closing again as he pulled his arm down, gripping the tops of my thighs with both hands. I grinned, biting down on my bottom lip for a moment before leaning down and kissing his lips properly. He hummed softly into the kiss, his fingers flexing on my thighs and just barely bucking his hips up against my bum. 

I pulled away just barely, still close enough to feel his breath fan out against my lips. I watched as his eyes fluttered open again, another grin forming on his lips as he looked up at me with heavy-lidded eyes. “Hi,” he whispered, running his fingers up and down my thighs. 

“Happy birthday,” I whispered back, bringing one of my hands up to affectionately stroke his cheek before pecking his lips again. 

“Mmm,” he hummed, the smile still plastered onto his face as he let his eyes close again. He gripped my thighs hard, his thumbs pressing dangerously close to my crotch, gently rutting up against my bum. I leaned down and kissed him more passionately this time, swiping my tongue across his lips, waiting until he parted them before deepening it. He moaned into the kiss, removing one of his hands from my thighs to tangle in my messy hair, pulling my face further into his 

We kissed for another few moments, content on doing just that, before I slowly pulled away from him. I sat up straight a bit, my hands braced on either side of his head, hovering over him as he stared up at me. I watched as his eyes traveled down to my chest, a toothy smile breaking out on his face before he snapped his eyes back up. 

“This is mine,” he whispered, tugging gently on the neck of my jumper before dropping his hand back to my thigh.

I grinned at him, pecking his lips once before hovering over him again. “Is it?” I played dumb, raising both of my eyebrows at him. I knew very well that it was his jumper; the jumper he had forced me to take that night he showed up at my flat drunk. I was convinced that it still smelled like him, even though that was pretty impossible now with the amount of times I had secretly worn it. 

“Mhmm,” he hummed, still giving me that same toothy smile. 

“Oh,” I said, as though I was just now realizing it. “Well… you can’t have it back,” I whispered, cocking my head to the side and raising a sassy eyebrow at him. He moaned quietly, his fingertips digging into my thighs hard as he pushed his duvet covered hips up against me again, his fingertips pulling my bum down at the same time. My cock twitched, arousal pooling in the pit of my stomach and I couldn’t help but lean down and capture his lips with mine again. 

His hands slid around my thighs and he gripped my hips, moaning quietly into the kiss as he pulled me tight against him. I could feel my trackies get tighter around my crotch just from the sounds he was making and my heart practically stopped when he slid his arms around me to cup my bum with both hands. I groaned loudly into the kiss, bracing my elbows on either side of his head so that I could lace my fingers into his hair. 

He kneaded my bum hard, his fingertips digging into the skin there, causing me to groan even louder. I had vowed to take it slow with Harry, since he was inexperienced, and the furthest he had gone on his part were messy hand jobs and grinding against me; this was the first time he had ever _properly_ grabbed my ass.

“Fuck, Harry,” I whispered, pulling away from his lips. He instantly leaned forward, sucking on the skin under my jaw, causing me to shiver and goosebumps to appear. I bit my bottom lip hard, trying to remain quiet, but my senses were in overdrive. My cock throbbed, now fully hard and feeling more neglected than it’s ever been, desperate to get some friction against it. “Jesus, what’s gotten into you?” I choked out, moaning again when he slipped his fingertips underneath the waistband of my trackies, sliding his fingers low across my back. 

“You showed up in my jumper,” he growled, “and pressed your gorgeous ass up against my cock.” He whispered hotly against my ear, causing another shiver to run down my body. “How do you expect me to respond?” he whispered, before biting down on my earlobe. I shuddered against him, tugging harshly on his hair with one of my fists, causing him to buck his hips up again. “Fuck, budge up for a second,” he hissed out, pulling upwards with his hands on my bum. 

I groaned, bracing my palms back down on the bed to lift my hips up, looking down and watching as he kicked the duvet down around his ankles. I blinked rapidly, my eyes wide, when I realized that he was completely naked. I looked back up at his face, gently easing back down onto his hips, able to feel him pressed up against me now. 

I tilted my head to the side, a wide grin spreading across my lips, “Sleeping naked in mummy’s house? You minx!” I beamed. He hushed me, pressing his pointer finger against my lip, smirking up at me before pulling me back down fully, attacking my lips with his. He rutted up against me and I moaned loudly, grinding my hips down forcefully against his. He tugged on the waistband of my trackies, his fingertips hooked inside of them, pushing himself hard against me. 

“Take these off,” he groaned, pulling on the waistband and snapping them against my hips. I moaned quietly, bracing my palms down flat on the bed and shifting my hips up. He quickly pushed the waistband down, and after shifting around in a few awkward positions, I was able to kick them completely off. He grabbed at the hem of my jumper, swiftly pulling it up and over my head before throwing it to the side. He giggled, _actually giggled_ , before kissing me roughly again. 

I leaned back down against him, hissing when I could feel him press up against my now naked bum. He groaned with the contact too, shifting his hips so that his cock rubbed against me. He gripped both cheeks again, harshly grabbing the heated skin with his fingers, moaning loudly when I pushed back further into his hands. 

“I wanna fuck you,” he said suddenly, pulling away from the kiss and looking directly into my eyes. My breath caught in my throat at his words, forcing myself to swallow the lump in my throat as I blinked at him. My heart pounded in my chest, my cock throbbing between my legs, desperate to get any sort of friction against it. 

“I-- um, Harry,” I stammered, feeling like I was going to pass out from the sudden wave of arousal that washed over me. He groaned, still gripping my ass hard, spreading them slightly which caused a loud moan to escape my lungs. I shuddered, my whole body shivering, my eyes closing tightly as I rolled my head forward. “Harry, I--” I couldn’t help but chuckle. 

“What?” he asked, panting hard, still rutting against me. 

“I don’t… um,” I chuckled again, causing him to laugh as well. “It’s the other way around, love,” I whispered, leaning down and pecking his lips. 

“Wha-- _Oh_ ,” he said, blushing furiously and avoiding my eyes when he realized what I was saying. 

“And I don’t suppose you’d let me fuck you, aye?” I whispered, grinning madly at him as I kissed him again. 

“Mmm… errrm…” 

I rolled my eyes, “That’s what I thought.” 

He groaned, rutting up harder against me and pulling me down for another kiss. “But you got such a nice _trunk._ ” 

I broke the kiss with a cackle, “ _trunk?!”_

“Shh,” he hushed, grinning at me again as he pulled my face back down to his. We kissed for another moment, my heart slamming against my ribs, but I think my heart actually _stopped_ when he mumbled his next words into the kiss. “I Wanna suck you off.” 

“What?” I pulled back, my eyes wide, my lips parted as I stared at him. 

He wiggled his eyebrows at me, that same toothy smile still across his swollen lips, before he quickly turned us over so that I was laid out flat on my back. My breath caught in my throat, watching as he kneed down the bed until he was hovering just over my crotch. I felt like my heart was going to burst right out of my chest, my cock physically _hurting_ from the lack of friction against it. 

“Harry-- I-- you don’t-- oh my god.” I cut myself off when he suddenly leaned forward and wrapped his lips around the head. I slammed the back of my head down against the pillow, slapping a hand over my mouth to keep myself from screaming, biting down harshly on the heel of my hand. He wrapped his fingers around the base, popping off for just a second before taking me a little deeper into his mouth. 

I was going to pass out. 

My eyes surged open when his teeth painfully scratched against the underside; I winced loud enough that he quickly removed his mouth from me and looked up, “Sorry!” he whispered, an apologetic look on his features. 

I was definitely going to pass out. 

“It’s okay-- okay,” I urged, reaching forward and gripping onto a fistfull of his hair. “Don’t stop,” I whispered, bucking my hips up at him. He grinned, stroking me off with his right hand, running his tongue across his lips. Then, in the most pornographic moment of my life, he kept his eyes locked on mine as he took the head back in his mouth. “Oh god,” I groaned, bucking my hips up again. 

He spluttered some, using his free hand to push my hips down, before sinking back down further onto my cock. I groaned, bringing my palm up to my mouth again as I tried to stay quiet, knowing that we couldn’t make too much noise without alerting somebody in his house. He sunk back down again, this time quickly pulling off and gagging loudly. 

I grinned, unable to stop myself at his innocence, “Are you okay?” 

He narrowed his eyes at me playfully, wiping his chin with the back of his hand before replacing it around me. “Maybe if you din’ have such a gigantic cock…” 

“Fuck,” I groaned, gripping his hair again tightly and forcing his head back down. “Fucking… fuck….” My eyes rolled back into my head, heat circling in the pit of my stomach as I tried to keep my orgasm away, not wanting this to end yet. “Jesus Christ, your mouth,” I groaned, “your fucking mouth-- your fucking mouth was made to suck co-- oh god, oh fuck, shit-- I’m gonna-- Harry--” 

My orgasm hit me like a freight train, every muscle in my body tensing up before releasing all at once. I shot off into the back of Harry’s throat, a feeling that I never wanted to forget, my eyes wide as I watched him splutter around it for a second before pulling off. I was panting hard, my heart pounding, my fingers and toes completely numb, watching as he awkwardly held his mouth shut. 

I had the urge to tell him, “Just swallow it, you pussy!” but I instantly thought better of it, quickly rolling over and searching for something for him to spit it into it. I laughed, the situation too funny to hold it in, and grabbed the trashcan from next to his bed. 

“A real man swallows,” I whispered, watching as he wiped the back of his mouth before setting the trashcan down on the floor. 

He narrowed his eyes at me, “I’ll show you a real man!” he exclaimed, grinning at me as he roughly pressed his lips against mine. I could feel his hand moving on himself, his arms beginning to tremble with the sensation of it, and before I even had a chance to wrap my fingers around him, he was suddenly shooting off between my legs.

 

* * *

 

I watched as Harry dropped the flannel to the floor he had used to clean us up with, adjusting the waistband of his trackies he had slipped on before originally leave the room, before sliding back onto the bed, reaching down to snatch up the duvet and pull it up around us. He laid back, holding his arm up and waiting for me to roll into him. I smiled, scooching closer to him and draping my arm over his torso, lifting my head so he could slide his arm underneath my neck before resting my cheek against his shoulder. 

“Well, so far this is the best birthday ever,” he whispered, scratching lightly at my scalp with his fingertips. I chuckled, nuzzling my cheek further into him and holding onto his stomach tight, sliding one of my barefeet in between his. I breathed in deeply through my nose, shifting my cheek up so that my face was buried in his neck, my nose just underneath his jaw. He gave off a content hum, pulling me tighter towards him and we laid there in silence for a few moments. 

“I should go back to my room,” I mumbled, my lips moving against his neck as I spoke. 

“Noooooo,” he whined, pulling me tighter against him, wrapping his legs completely around mine. I smiled into him, my heart fluttering at his protest. “This is the only time I’ll get to… touch you,” he whispered, running his hand along my side, my skin twitching when his fingertips grazed the ticklish flesh of my stomach. His fingers paused and he let a puff of air leave his lungs in a chuckle, “...You’re ticklish.” 

“Everybody’s ticklish.” I swatted at his hand before resting it against his shoulder again, my face still buried in the crook of his neck. His fingertips lightly grazed my stomach again and I twitched as an uncontrollable laugh came from my lungs. “Fucking stop,” I laughed, reaching down and grabbing his wrist tightly, pushing it away from my side. 

“No!” He laughed, our arms struggling against each other as he tried to get at my stomach again. He quickly overpowered me, his hand mashing mine against my stomach before his fingers continued their torture on me. I ripped my head away from him, trying to roll away from him as I cackled, slapping at him with my free hand. 

“Stop! Stop!” I exclaimed, laughing loudly as I pulled my knees up to try and push away from him. He rolled on top of me, his knees on either side of my hips, attacking my ribs with both of his hands. I cackled, my back arching and my muscles tensing, trying to push him away but failing. He pinned both of my wrists down with one hand, using his other to cover my mouth tightly. 

“Shh,” he hushed, chuckling at me before he continued. “You’re going to wake my whole family,” he whispered, his hand still clamped over my mouth, my wrists pinned above my head. I looked up at him, at the way he was hovering over me while effortlessly pinning me to the bed, before taking a shaky breath in through my nose. I searched his eyes for a moment before forcing my jaw open, biting down roughly on one of the fingers that were pressed against my mouth. He yelped, instantly retracting his hand from my mouth and bringing up to his face to examine it. 

“You… bit me.” 

“Yup,” I replied, focusing on the way his long fingers were able to wrap around both of my wrists. 

“You _bit_ me.” 

“I sure did.” I nodded, blinking innocently at him. “What’re you gonna do about it?” I whispered, giving him a suggestive look. His eyes narrowed, pushing my wrists down further into the pillow before he swiftly leaned forward and bit down on the flesh of my collarbone. I squealed, trying to pull my arms away from his grasp but failing once again. I bucked my hips up, causing our crotches to bash together and I didn’t miss the way he moaned into the bite. 

I bucked up again, making another moan escape from his lungs, thrashing my legs around underneath him. He removed his teeth from my skin, only to wrap his lips around the tender spot and suck harshly on it. I groaned loudly, letting my head roll to the side as I focused on the feeling, listening to the obscene sounds he was making. 

When he finally pulled away I was gasping for air, feeling like he had sucked all of that out of me as well, and I rolled my head back to look into his eyes. He avoided my glance, staring hard at my chest and running his tongue across his lips. I looked down, my jaw dropping when I saw the bright red mark he had left on my collarbone. 

“Did you just… give me a hickey?!” I exclaimed, flashing my eyes up and narrowing them at him. I watched as he grinned, a proud expression across his face, nodding happily at me. “What are you, _twelve?!_ ” I continued to glare at him, being able to feel my skin throbbing around where he had attacked me. He shrugged innocently and when I looked down I was able to clearly see the outline of him in his loose trackies. “Oh my god, you _are_ twelve!” 

“Heeeyyyy!” 

“You just came ten minutes ago!” I couldn’t help but laugh as I flicked my eyes back up at him. 

“Shhh,” he hushed, holding his pointer finger in front of his lips. “You can’t just yell stuff like that,” he whispered, though he was grinning madly at me. I bit down on my bottom lip, not able to hide the smirk that was across my face either. I tried to remove my pinned arms from his grasp again but he pressed them down harder, tutting at me as he shook his head. 

“Let go of me!” 

“No,” he whispered. 

“Why not?” I pouted. 

“Because.” He shrugged, “Maybe I like holding you down.” 

I flicked my eyes back and forth between his for a moment, breathing in deeply through my nose before finally finding my words. “You’re… a _kinky bastard._ ” He threw his head back and laughed before quickly bringing his palm up to muffle it. “You’re gonna bruise my wrist!” I angry-whispered at him, the skin already sore around his fingers. 

“Mmm, don’t tempt me.” He smirked at me, leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to my lips before sitting back up straight, gently pulling my wrists back in front of me and rubbing his thumbs along where he had been gripping. I swallowed the lump in the back of my throat, watching as he examined my wrists with both hands, a fond smile spread across his face as he looked at the reddened skin. 

I rolled my head to the side, staring off at the wall as I spoke casually to him. “Gonna be sittin’ at the breakfast table with a _gigantic_ hickey and bruised up wrists.” I rolled my head back to look at him, “I’m sure your family won’t find that weird _at all._ ” He gave me a toothy smile, bringing my wrists up to his lips and kissing both of them before gently letting go. 

He braced his palms on either side of my head before leaning down, his words coming out hot against my ear. “You think they’ll know I had your cock in my mouth?” I shuddered, goosebumps forming on my exposed skin again with his words, my eyes widened at him but he didn’t back away. His breath blew against my ear for another moment before he continued, “Think they’ll know I came all over your ass?” 

“Harry!” I groaned, rutting my hips back up against him, my still-spent cock trying desperately to come back to life. 

He sat back up straight, smiling brightly at me as he raised an eyebrow. “Yes, Lou?” 

“You’re… you’re _filthy._ ” 

“I know,” he whispered, wiggling his eyebrows at me. “Come on,” he said, rolling off of me and standing from the bed. I squeezed my eyes shut, my head spinning from the lack of pressure on me now that he had stood, listening as he padded around the room. 

“What’re you doing?” I asked, finally opening my eyes and leaning up on one elbow. 

He rolled his eyes at me, “Come on.” I watched as he bent down and grabbed the grey jumper he had torn off me earlier, looking at it in his hands for a moment before tossing it at me. It landed across my chest but I didn’t move, watching as he dug the heel of his hand down against himself. 

I swallowed harshly, “Har--”

“Get up!” he whispered, gesturing with his free hand at the same time. I took a deep breath in before sitting up properly, confused at what he could possibly be up to now. How he had managed to go from whispering _filthy_ things in my ear, to _standing_ in just the matter of seconds was beyond me. 

“Where are we going?” I whispered, sitting on the edge of the bed to pull my jumper on before standing. 

With his hand still rubbing into his crotch, probably trying to rid himself of his very-obvious erection, he gave me a toothy smile and said, “I need ice cream.”

 

* * *

 

Later on that day, after having a nice breakfast with his family (Where they fawned all over the fact he was now twenty two.) Harry had decided that he wanted to show me the town. We had stood outside his home arguing for about ten minutes beforehand, because he said the only way to _truly_ get around Cheshire was on a bike, and I was quick to refuse. 

“Nope! No! Fuck that! No more bikes ever, remember?!” I had yelled at him, to which he rolled his eyes and claimed he didn’t remember the word _ever_ being apart of that sentence. (Though it _definitely_ was.) After that little debate, we had decided to walk instead. 

“So, what exactly did you _do_ growing up?” 

“Whatcha mean?” Harry looked over at me as we walked, raising an eyebrow at me. 

“Like, this is such a tiny town.” I laughed, “How did you… entertain yourself?” 

“Oh!” He smiled brightly, “There’s _lots_ to do here!” 

“Like what?” 

“You know. Stuff.” 

“Liiiiiiike?” I pressed, looking back over at him, stuffing my hands deep into my jumper pocket to keep them warm. 

He shrugged, pulling the grey beanie down lower on his ears before peering over at me. “I started working really young.” 

“How young?” 

“Mmm… like fifteen.” 

I raised an eyebrow, “Isn’t that against some sort of child labor law?” 

“Yes.” He gave me a proud, toothy smile as we turned the next corner. 

I chuckled quietly, “Okay, so what is it that you _did_ for a living at… fifteen?” 

He chewed it over for a moment before looking back over and grinning, reaching down and grabbing my hand before taking off in a run. I stumbled the first few paces, not expecting to suddenly be running, but our feet soon matched each other and I couldn’t help but laugh at how enthusiastic he was. After we had run down two more blocks, he abruptly stopped, causing me to run directly into his back. 

He stumbled forward once before laughing loudly, turning around to check if I was okay. “You’re crazy!” I exclaimed, though laughing all the same, watching as another toothy grin spread over his features. “Why were we running?!” 

“Because.” He grinned, turning us around and gesturing his hand at the building across the street. “ _That_ is where I worked.”

“You mean broke the law?” 

“Yes. That is where I _broke the law._ ” 

I smirked at him before turning my attention back across the street, waiting for the truck to move that was blocking my vision. “A… bakery?” I asked, looking over at him and raising an eyebrow. He gave me another proud smile, nodding enthusiastically at the same time. I couldn’t help but grin at his expression, “You baked?” 

“Yup!” 

“Do you _still_ bake?” I asked, raising a hopeful eyebrow at him. 

“Well I didn’t forget,” he replied, his tone dripping with sarcasm and giving me another roll of his eyes. 

“That’s _perfect!_ ” I exclaimed, clapping my hands together in front of me. He raised a questioning eyebrow and I continued, “Between my personal chef Niall and my very own little _baker_ now,” I beamed, reaching forward and making grabby hands for his cheek. “My life is _set!_ I beat the system!” 

He laughed loudly, slapping my hand away from his cheek, “What system is that?” 

I rolled my eyes, “Everyone’s always been like; _Louis! You’ll need to learn how to cook one day!_ ” I mimicked, using an obnoxious accent. “But I’ve _clearly_ proved them wrong! Dinner and dessert are taken care of! I can have my _literal_ cake and _eat it too!_ ” I exclaimed, my eyes lit up with excitement as I spoke, watching as his lip twitched before he smiled again. 

“Guess I’ll just have to stick around then, huh?” he muttered, taking a step forward and grabbing onto my sides with his fingers. I bit down on my bottom lip, my heart fluttering a bit at his words. “Wouldn’t want you to be hungry,” he whispered, his eyes flicking down to my lips for a moment. 

“Exactly,” I whispered, my fingers wrapped around his elbows. I wanted to lean forward and kiss him but I thought twice about it, not knowing if that would make him uncomfortable; everybody seemed to know _everybody_ in this town, it would most likely get back to his mum by the time we got home. Before I could think any further of it though, he swiftly leaned in and pressed his lips to mine. 

My heart fluttered again as we pulled away, a proud grin on my face as I looked at him, searching his eyes for any sign of regret. He grinned, blinking at me a few times and then ran his tongue along his bottom lip once before pecking my lips again. “Come on,” he said, pulling back and reaching for my hand. “We have more places to see.” 

I swallowed the lump in the back of my throat, suddenly overwhelmed with my affection for him, but I forced myself to nod as I let him take me by the hand and head down the street. “So many things I don’t know about you,” I mused, swiping my thumb over the backs of his knuckles. 

“Mmm, like what?” he asked, smiling over at me, gripping my hand tighter. 

I grinned at him, “Like… you bake.” 

“Mhmm.”

“And that you do karate.” 

“I--” He cut himself off, raising an eyebrow at me, the smirk never leaving his face. “I _did_ karate… I don’t anymore.” 

“Oh, really?” I mocked, “and here I thought you were going to whip your ninja-skills out at any moment.” 

He glared, “I could if I wanted to.” 

“Mhmm,” I hummed, squeezing his hand, “I’m sure you can, love.” 

“Did you want me to kick your ass right here?” He laughed loudly, gesturing with his free hand towards the street, “Right here in the open? Where everybody can see?” 

“Don’t flatter yourself, young Harold.” 

“Heeeeyyy,” he whined, pouting at me. “I’m not young!” 

“Mhmm.” 

“It’s my _birthday._ I’m a year _older._ ” 

“Right, right.” I nodded, though still grinning at him as we walked slowly down the sidewalk. 

“Alright, now you’re asking for it!” He exclaimed, grabbing me harshly and jumping onto my back, causing me to stumble forward a few steps as I tried to regain my balance. I screeched, not expecting his attack. He wrapped his arms tightly around my neck, laughing loudly as he yelled, “Ninja skills: activate!” 

I grabbed onto his forearms, trying to pull them away from my neck, laughing loudly as he began to make what I could only assume were his _ninja_ noises. “Ayye-ya! Ka-chow!” I cackled loudly at his noises as I stumbled around the next corner, Harry still clinging tightly to my back, my fingers wrapped around his arm as he karate chopped at my chest. I stopped in my tracks when we came face to face with an older couple, the two of us almost running into them on the small sidewalk. 

The couple stopped in their tracks, looking like a deer caught in headlights, and Harry stopped mid ka-chow; his hand hovered above my chest in the karate chop position. I could feel his breath catch in his throat and he slowly slid off of my back, clearing his throat as he looked at the couple before us. I blinked a few times in confusion, being able to feel the tension between us already.

I slowly looked over at Harry and watched as he stared down at the ground, his hands fidgeting in front of his hips for a moment before he finally looked up. He visibly gulped before speaking, “H-- Hi.” 

I quickly switched my gaze back over to the couple, taking in the cold appearance of the man, his eyes narrowed in Harry’s direction and his lips pulled together in a tight line. The woman was breathing heavily and she hesitated for a moment before finally speaking, her tone soft and so quiet I almost missed it. “Hello, Harry.” 

“Ermm… how’re you?” Harry asked, his words coming out shaky. 

“Good.” She nodded, reaching out and grabbing onto her husband’s hand. His gaze was still cold as he looked at Harry, looking at him like he wanted to reach out and punch him. I swallowed harshly, slowly putting two and two together, realizing that these people must be Josie’s parents. Nobody else could cause this much tension just by simply running into them on the street. “And… and you? How’re you doing?” She finally asked, after we had all stood in awkward silence for a moment. 

“I’m… doing okay,” he mumbled, staring hard at the ground. 

“Your mum told us that you moved?” 

This was the most awkward conversation I’ve ever heard. 

“Yeah,” Harry replied, “I… yes. I moved.” 

“Hmm.” The woman hummed. I looked up, flicking my eyes back and forth between the two, noticing how the man’s expression was still unchanged. “Well, I hope you’re…” she trailed off, clicking her tongue against her teeth in thought. It was only a few moments before she finished her sentence, but the awkwardness of the situation made it seem like a few years. “Happy.” 

I gulped again, wrapping my arms around my stomach, feeling more uncomfortable than I had in a long time. I wanted to back away, let the three of them finish this conversation without me, and the longer that I stood there un-introduced, the worse it got. My heart was pounding, trying to figure out what my escape plan was going to be. 

“And how-- how’re you, Mr. Fischer?” Harry stammered. 

I looked over to the balding man, watching as his eyes narrowed further at Harry. It seemed like the whole world stopped, like this exact moment took years to play out, the man continuing to glare at Harry for another moment before finally turning towards his wife and speaking loudly at her. “I’m not gonna stand here and make nice with this boy!” he exclaimed, gesturing a hand out roughly at Harry. “You can meet me at home!” 

My eyes widened at his words, anger coursing through me as they processed in my mind, and I watched as he swiftly turned around and stalked away from us. “George!” The woman cried at his back, pinching her eyes shut tightly and bringing a hand up to her mouth. I looked over at Harry, who had a blank expression, his eyes blinking slowly and his body unmoving. My heart pounded harder in my chest, so many words at the tip of my tongue but biting them all back, knowing this wasn’t my battle to fight. 

“Harry,” she spoke, but he quickly interjected. 

“It’s okay.” He shook his head, “It’s… it’s fine.” 

Silence. 

“I’m… I’m gonna go,” she whispered. 

“Yeah.” 

“Um… take care of yourself, yeah?” she asked, avoiding his eyes and staring down at the ground. When he didn’t respond, she slowly turned around and headed off in the direction that her husband went. I turned towards Harry, biting my bottom lip hard as I tried to find the right words to say to him. He was still standing in the exact same position, the blank expression still on his features, and I hesitantly reached out to touch his shoulder. 

He flinched, pulling away from me and muttering towards the ground. “Let’s go back.” 

“Harry,” I whispered, reaching out for him again. 

He swiftly turned around, my hand missing him altogether, and I frowned as he started walking off. I jogged to catch up to him, slowing down when I was next to him, frowning over at him as we walked. “Are you okay?” 

“Yup,” he responded, his tone flat. 

“Harry…” 

“I just want to go home, okay?” he snapped, his words coming out quick and his eyes still cast downwards. I shut my mouth afterwards, stuffing my hands back in my jumper pocket as we silently headed back towards his house. I chewed the inside of my cheek hard, my eyes burning at his words. 

We didn’t speak the entire way home and by the time we got there, almost twenty minutes later, I was about ready to burst with everything I wanted to say to him. “Harry, I think--”

“I’m gonna go take a shower,” he said, cutting me off as soon as we got inside the house. I snapped my mouth shut, blinking at him as he avoided my eyes, harshly shutting the front door before turning and heading up the stairs without another word to me. I stood in the foyer, my muscles locked in their positions, feeling like he had punched me in the gut. 

My eyes burned again, hating the way that he had so quickly shut me out. I knew he was upset, that was pretty obvious, but I didn’t know what to do to comfort him. I breathed in deeply through my nose, looking down at my shoes, trying to think of what to do. I pulled my phone out of my pocket, quickly unlocking it and pressing on Niall’s contact, stepping out of the foyer and into the empty living room. 

I pressed the phone to my ear, biting the inside of my cheek hard as it rang, desperately needing advice on what to do now. I groaned quietly when the call went to voicemail, pulling the phone away from my ear and debating on whether or not to try and call back. My thumb hovered over the button for a minute before I sighed, locking the phone and slipping it back into my pocket. 

After standing there for another few moments, I finally started moving and headed quietly up the stairs. When I got to the top, I turned the corner and was about to head towards the guest room, but I noticed his door cracked open just barely and I could hear hushed voices coming from there. My heart sped up again, suddenly overcome with the urge to eavesdrop, and I tried for a moment to talk myself out of it before tiptoeing over to the door, praying that none of the floorboards would creak. 

I gently grabbed onto the wall and pressed my ear close to the door, trying to make out the muffled voices coming from inside. I could tell right away that it was Harry and Gemma, and they were clearly trying to keep their voices down but I was able to make out their words when I listened closely. 

“--were you?” 

“On eighth avenue.” 

“Oh…” 

I held my breath, feeling like my breathing was too loud to hear over, listening as Harry mumbled the next part so quietly I almost didn’t hear it at all. “It just made me… realize.” 

“Realize what?” 

“That… I’ll never be over her.” 

I felt like his words verbally punched me. I winced ever so slightly, biting down on my bottom lip hard afterwards so I wouldn’t make anymore noise. I felt like the room was spinning, my chest constricting hard in my chest as his words repeated over in my head. 

“Harry…” She whispered. 

“I don’t ever _want_ to be over her, Gem.” 

I gripped the door frame hard, feeling like I was either going to throw up or pass out. I couldn’t believe I was hearing this. Gemma whispered something else at Harry, something that I couldn’t hear over my heart pounding in my ears, but I calmed down just enough to hear Harry mumble his next words. 

“It’s too soon.” 

“What’s too soon?” 

“To be… in a relationship with somebody.” 

I was definitely going to puke. 

“Are you… _in_ a relationship?” Gemma whispered. 

My heart stopped; I swear it did. My fingers gripped the door frame as hard as I could, my knuckles all turning white from the force of it, listening as the silence continued for another few moments. I peered my head to the side, trying desperately to see through the crack of the door, wanting to see Harry’s face. 

“I… don’t know,” he mumbled. 

Silence. 

“Harry…” Gemma pressed. 

“Yeah… yeah kind of,” Harry said, and before I could even get my hopes up, he continued. “I don’t know; not really.” 

_Not really?!_

“Not really?” Gemma repeated, taking the words right out of my mouth. “What does that mean?” 

I bit down so hard on my lip that I knew I drew blood. 

“I mean…” Harry whispered, his next words coming out even quieter than before. “I don’t think I… want… to be.” 

The room began spinning again, bile threatening in the back of my throat to come up, my heart still feeling like it was caught in-between beats. They were the most painful words I think I had ever heard and if it wasn’t for my fingers gripping the wall so tightly, I knew for sure I would have collapsed. 

“Why not?” Gemma asked, their conversation continuing; completely oblivious to the fact I was dying out here. 

“Because it’s too soon.” 

“Then why did you get _into_ a relationship?” Gemma whispered. 

“H-- They like… forced me.” 

My eyes widened. 

“Forced?” Gemma repeated. 

“Like, I wasn’t ready. But h-- _they_ were. And… like… it was pretty much like, um, an ultimatum?” Harry continued. 

I stood up straight, letting go of the wall and balling up my fists, rage surging through me as I listened to his words. Who the fuck did he think he was? My skin was on fire, the tips of my ears burning from all the anger that was suddenly pouring through me. 

“Oh,” Gemma said, after a moment of silence. 

“I… I like them. I just… I don’t think I was… ready.” 

“I see,” Gemma whispered. I was going to die. “Can I… can I ask you something?” she continued. I inhaled deeply through my nose, holding it in as I struggled to listen to the rest of their conversation. “Is it… is it Louis?” 

His response was instant. “Fuck, Gemma, I’m not gay.” 

Before I could stop myself, I slammed my fist down on the door, causing it to fly open and smash against the wall behind it. They both jumped, my actions clearly startling them. Harry was sitting on the edge of the bed, Gemma standing right in front of him, and they both stared at me with wide eyes. I was definitely seeing red by this point, not able to control myself. I opened my lips to yell, raising a shaking finger at them, but no words came out. 

“Oh god,” Harry muttered. 

Gemma looked like she wanted to throw up as well. 

I stared at him hard for another moment, my whole arm now shaking before I took a step back, turning completely around and ran out of the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiiiiiiiii =) 
> 
> Please don't hate me. 
> 
> I know that NONE of you wanted that last scene to happen... but, I guess I like to torture you guys =) 
> 
> But, I know you dirty mofos liked the first bit of this chapter, am I right?! I know it's the great [filthy] debate between Larry shippers, but, um, Louis tops. So. There's that. 
> 
> ANYWAY, Happy Friday everybody!!!! I'm sorry (once again) that it took me so long to update. I would have been able to get this chapter out yesterday, but... I decided late in the afternoon yesterday to go a _completely_ different direction with this chapter, so I had to... start over. But! I did _a lot_ of planning for the rest of this story, and I know _exactly_ what I need to write now! So hopefully there won't be any more long breaks in between chapters =) 
> 
> You guys are seriously, like, the most amazing people in the world! I seriously love every single one of you and look forward to your comments _so much_! I feel like I have such a great relationship with _every single one of you_ and that makes me SO happy! I started writing this story to fulfill my own little desires, but I find myself writing now more for _you_ guys because you are all _so awesome_ and give me so much love! 
> 
> THAT being said, **I want to SPECIFICALLY thank THESE people that are the most amazing jiggly bits of my life: BeautifulPeopleLarry, my amazing proof-reader Boyo, Eden, Ted, larrydirectionermcflied, my partner in flappy-bird/the GORGEOUS Entice, my SUPER loving wife LouisLoves, lollycoops, jacktheminiatureslayer and naillersdirtymofo! I love you guys BEYOND words!**
> 
> Extra shout-out to Entice for talking me through my mini-melt down over this chapter! I'd be lost without you, love!
> 
> I hope everybody has an AMAZING weekend! I will be updating very soon =) LOVE YOU ALL. 
> 
> BYYYYYYYYEEEE.


	23. Hear You Me

By the time I had made the six steps to the guest room, my heart was pounding so hard I swore I was _actually_ going into cardiac arrest. The room was spinning; actually, I think _I_ was spinning. I brought my hands up to my face, digging the heels of my hands harshly into my forehead, feeling like somebody had stabbed me straight through my temples. 

I quickly picked up my duffle bag, forcefully unzipping it before frantically trying to gather all of my belongings up. I grabbed up the clothes that had been left in a pile on the bed, scooping them all up in one go, before shoving them roughly into the bag. It was hard to hear over the pounding in my ears, but I knew Harry was now in the room. 

“Louis, I--” 

“Don’t fucking talk to me!” I yelled, my hands shaking as I tried to get my bag to zip up. The zipper had gotten stuck on a piece of stray fabric, making it impossible to zip the duffle closed. “Fucking piece of shit!” I exclaimed, scooping the unzipped bag up in my arms and quickly turning around. Harry was standing in the doorway, one arm wrapped around his stomach, the other brought up to his face and he was chewing on his thumb nail. “Get the _hell_ out of my way,” I barked, glaring so hard that it actually hurt my eyes. 

He didn’t say anything, but he also didn’t move. 

My ears were ringing and I felt lightheaded. 

“Harry, get _out_ of my way,” I repeated, my tone stern and my eyes cold. 

He just kept biting on his thumbnail. 

“Get the fuck out of my way!” I screamed, my feet finally moving and forcefully shoving my way past Harry, causing him to be knocked into the doorframe. I ran down the hallway, my stupid [broken] duffle bag held tightly in my arms, my barefeet almost slipping against the wooden floor of the stairs as I ran down them. 

By the time I got to the front door, which was only about a second later, the ringing in my ears was so loud it was impossible to say whether or not Harry was following me. I hastily dropped my duffle to the floor, grabbing my shoes and forcefully tugging them on, my fingers shaking so bad that it was actually a challenge to get them on my damn feet. 

I scooped up my bag again, ripping the front door open and running out of the house; not even bothering to close the door behind me. I had somewhat heard the screen door slam behind me, but it was honestly the least of my worries. I didn’t care what Harry’s family knew, or what they could possibly be thinking right now of my dramatic exit. All I knew was that I needed to be back in London _right now._

I ran down the driveway, mentally cursing the Styles family for purchasing a house with such a long goddamn drive-- actually, I can blame this one on Cheshire; _Fuck You, Cheshire._ I knew I had lived my whole life without coming here for a reason. When I had finally made it to the end, I slowed down to a walk, my heart beating so fast that I thought it might actually explode if I kept running the way I had been. 

“Louis, stop!” 

I looked over my shoulder, my eyes wide, not expecting Harry to follow me out of the house. I knew when I would reflect on this moment later on, the fact that Harry had followed me outside wouldn't be so shocking, but right now I was flat out _appalled_ that he was still in my line of sight. I quickly turned my head back around, taking off in another frantic run down the street; though it ended up being more of a quick-wobble, given the fact my arms were filled with this dodgy bag. 

When I felt his hand touch my shoulder, I lost it. 

I abruptly stopped running, whipping around and throwing my bag directly at his chest. The force of my actions caused him to stumble back a bit; the bag wasn’t particularly heavy but he probably wasn’t expecting it to be lobbed at his chest. He quickly recovered though, even as the contents of the bag had spilled out onto the pavement, and he parted his lips to say something but I cut him off. 

“Fuck you!” I exclaimed, panting hard and not caring that we were standing in the middle of the street. “You’re a fucking asshole!” I continued, “all you’ve done since _day one_ is _fuck me up,_ Harry!” I was yelling, my words echoing down the deserted street, small clouds forming around my words from the cold air. 

“Lou--” 

“You say you like me!” I cut him off, “Then you pull away. You _kiss_ me and then spend the next few weeks acting like you’re in a goddamn relationship with me, but _NO_ , you’re _NOT GAY!_ ” I screamed so loud my throat burned, my voice cracking at the very end despite my best efforts. My heart was beating so fast that I could no longer feel it, my body becoming numb to the constant pull in my chest. 

When Harry had the audacity to try and hush me, not for my words but for my volume, my eyes instantly widened. “No!” I yelled, “fuck you! I don’t give a _shit_ who hears!” I exclaimed, throwing my hands up in the air. “That’s not my goddamn problem! That’s never been my goddamn problem! _You’re_ the one that’s always had a _goddamn problem_!” 

I paused for a brief second only to catch my breath, and when my lungs were filled with bitterly cold air, I continued. “I didn’t force you into anything, you _fucking bastard._ I can’t believe you could sit there and actually _say_ those words to somebody! How the fuck do you sleep at night?!” I exclaimed, my eyes narrowed harshly at him, watching as he just stood there. My clothes were spilled out over his feet, my duffle on it’s side, and he stood as still as a statue.

We stood in silence for a moment, my heavy breathing being the only noise around us, but I quickly broke it when I realized he wasn’t going to. “What?” I huffed, “got nothing to say?” I couldn’t remember the last time I was this angry. I knew, even in this moment, that my anger was only masking the pain he had just caused me; but for right now, _I was angry._

“I--” he paused, “You-- I--” 

“What?!” I barked, causing him to flinch. “Fucking say it.” 

“You can’t… be _mad_ when… when _you_ were the one, you know, um, eavesdropping?” 

There’s been countless times in my life where I’ve been left speechless; it was actually a pretty common occurrence in my life. But as the words left his mouth, coming out slower than molasses, my jaw dropping further and further with each word, I found myself completely overwhelmed with all the things I _wanted_ to say. I had so many different responses for him that I’m positive my brain overloaded, so the only words that came out were: “I bloody well can!” 

“Louis, I--” 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I gaped, my jaw hung so low that it might get locked in that position. “Please tell me that you're _actually_ kidding with me right now,” I continued, “because I _know_ you didn’t just _fucking say that.”_

He sighed, bringing his fingers up to tangle in his hair, a frustrated habit of his I had picked up so long ago. Normally this habit of his did something to me, made me instantly soften or want to comfort him somehow, but seeing him tug at his hair right now just fired me up that much more. I hope he tears all of his precious curls out, leaving him bald and miserable. 

Who the hell was he to be upset right now? _I_ was the one that heard him telling his sister that he never wanted to be with me in the first place. 

“You weren’t-- I mean, I never… I never wanted you to hear… any of that.” 

“Well I fucking did,” I snapped, the realization that I was shaking all over suddenly hitting me. “And _you_ said it. I can’t believe you.” I shook my head, clenching my fists together to try and calm my muscles. “I can’t believe you thought I _forced_ you into _anything,_ ” I said. “Tell me, was I _forcing_ you this morning when you were sucking my cock?” 

“Shh!” He instantly hushed me, his eyes widening. 

“Did I tie you up and fucking _force_ you to get off? Because if I remember correctly, _you_ had _me_ pinned down,” I continued, my voice loud as I glared hard at him, one of my shaking fingers pointed in his direction. 

“Shut up!” he hissed, looking around frantically to see if anybody was around to hear, causing me to scoff loudly. 

“You’re a goddamn child, Harry,” I said, shaking my head. “I should have known better.” 

Silence.

We stared at each other for a long moment before Harry slowly crouched down, grabbing up the items that had fallen out of my duffle and carefully placing them back inside. I crossed my arms over my chest, watching as he picked at the zipper for a moment before getting the bag to zip up properly. He stood, his expressionless eyes finding mine again before he hesitantly held out the bag in my direction. 

“I think…” he said, his eyes watching my hand as I reached and snatched the bag out of his. “I think everything just happened… too fast.” 

“Yeah,” I snapped, “I _got that_ from your conversation.” 

He sighed loudly, squeezing his eyes shut tightly for a moment before opening them, our eyes connecting again. “I mean, I think… I think it was a lot to happen all at once,” he said, pausing to swallow harshly. “You… you overwhelm me, Louis.” 

“Right,” I replied bitterly. 

“You do.” He looked back up at me, “I-- I care about you so much but this,” he waved his hand in between us, “it all happened… too fast.” 

“It’s because you saw her parents, wasn’t it?” I blurted out, causing his eyes to flick up to mine before widening. 

“Wh-- What?” 

“Everything was was _perfect_ up until that point.” I glared at him, my arms still crossed over my chest, my duffle sitting across my feet. “We were getting along just-fucking-fine up until then.” 

His gaze hardened, his eyes narrowing further at me as he took a step forward, my words clearly affecting him. “That’s absolute shit. You’re _always_ mad at me; you _always_ have something to be upset about--”

“Because you keep fucking up!” 

“--You’re never just _happy_ with me--” 

“Because you make me feel like it’s all one sided!” 

“--Or with us--” 

“Bullshit!” 

“--Or with anything!” 

“That’s all bullshit!”

“--So don’t stand there and act like what we had was perfect when it _clearly_ never was.” 

We were talking over each other so loudly that it was actually hard to hear.

“You’ve been ashamed of me since day one!” I exclaimed. 

“Ashamed?!” Harry yelled, “if I was ashamed of you, I would have _never_ brought you here!”

“You _shouldn’t_ have brought me here!” I countered, “you should have never brought me here!” 

“I _wouldn’t_ of if I had known you were going to act this way!” 

“How the _hell_ do you expect to me act?!” I cried, throwing my hands up again. “You just told Gemma that you don’t want to be with me!” 

“Even before that! You were acting like a right prick this whole trip!” 

“Maybe because you introduced me to your family as your _friend!”_

“You are my friend!” he yelled back. 

“I’m more than your friend, Harry!” 

“Yes!” he nodded, “but you _are_ my friend!” 

“Look at you!” I screamed, “it’s like you don’t even see what the fuck you did! You don’t see how this situation can hurt me at all!” 

“You’re being too sensitive about it.” 

“ _I’m_ being too sensitive?” I scoffed, “you’ve got to be joking.” 

“You are.” 

“This morning you were _all_ over me; kissing me and cuddling me and-- and getting off on me!” I glared, “And then a few hours after that, I hear you telling your goddamn sister about how you don’t want anything to do with me! And that, _shocker_ , you aren’t _fucking gay!”_ I yelled. 

“I’m _not_ gay!” He threw his hands up in the air, “I’m not gay, Louis!” 

“You were _pretty fucking gay_ this morning!” I yelled back. 

“No!” he yelled, matching my tone. “I wasn’t!” 

I laughed-- actually, I cackled. It was the most absurd thing he had ever said. Denying our relationship to somebody else was one thing, but trying to deny it _to my face_ was completely different. With my jaw dropped and my eyes wide, I found myself utterly speechless. 

So I laughed harder. 

“Stop fucking laughing!” he exclaimed. 

“How can I?” I asked, my words coming out around my laughter. “You’re hilarious.” 

“Stop it!” 

“Not gay!” I laughed loudly, “Right, right!” I brought my hand up to wipe a faux tear from my cheek, noticing the way his cheeks were getting redder by the second. His eyebrows were furrowed, his lips pulled together in a tight line, angry breaths escaping through his nose. “Sorry, it’s just hard for me take that seriously when you were gagging around my cock earlier.” 

“I’m not gay!” he yelled, bringing his fingers back up to tug harshly on his curls. “I’m _not._ I-- I fucking like you Louis and-- and I don’t care that you’re a _guy_ but-- but I’m not gay! I don’t like men!” 

“Whatever you say, Harry.” 

He let his fingers fall from his hair, gesturing his hands out in front of him and screaming, “I don’t!” 

“Sure, sure, right.” I nodded in mock agreement, my tone still showing how amused I was by where this conversation had ended up. “All I’m saying is,” I began, tilting my head to the side and giving him a bright smile. “Straight lads don’t suck cock.” 

“Fucking hell, I’m not like you, Louis!” 

His words hit me like a ton of bricks, my mock-smile slowly fading until it was completely gone. Suddenly, Harry was no different than anybody else from my past. He was no longer somebody that could make me feel special or feel wanted; feel anything. He was just another asshole that would never be able to accept me for the way I was.

I felt as though all of the air around me had disappeared and he seemed to notice it too, judging from the way he inhaled deeply through his lips. The ringing in my ears was long gone, that or I had just gotten used to it, and I couldn’t really tell if I was breathing or not still. 

In that moment, with just those words, it was like I was looking at a complete stranger. 

“We were doomed from the start,” I muttered, my tone dry, all of my emotions long gone. He huffed but didn’t say anything, just crossed his arms over his chest and looked down at the ground. “I was an absolute fool to think you were ready for… all of this.” 

“Whatever,” he mumbled, kicking at the pavement and pulling his arms tighter around his chest. 

“I can’t compete with a ghost.” 

His head quickly snapped up, staring coldly at me as he uncrossed his arm to point a finger at me. “Don’t.” 

I shrugged, “It’s true.” 

“Don’t _fucking_ go there, Louis.” He warned me, his tone full of venom. 

“That’s what this is all about, innit?” I responded, my tone remaining flat as I stared numbly at him. 

“She has _nothing_ to do with this!” 

If I had the energy to roll my eyes, I would have. But as it turned out, I barely had enough energy to stand up straight. “I didn’t just catch the _end_ of that conversation, you know,” I mumbled, blinking slowly at him. “I heard the whole thing.” 

“You don’t know what the fuck you heard!” he exclaimed. 

“You can’t be alone for the rest of your life,” I huffed. 

“Stop it!” he yelled, taking an angry step towards me. “Don’t talk about this!” 

“She’s _gone_ , Harry.” 

“Shut up!” 

“She’s never coming back!” 

“Shut up!” he yelled, bringing his palms up and roughly pushing my chest. “Shut the _fuck_ up!” 

I stumbled back a few paces from the force of it, my foot getting caught in the strap of my bag, causing me to fall roughly to the ground. My knee skidded across the pavement, my palm skidding as well from where I had tried to stop myself. I winced, sucking in a harsh breath at where I could feel my skin tear, sitting up straight and looking at the hole in my jeans around my knee.

Before I could even get my bearings, Harry was hovered over me, screaming in my face. “Don’t ever talk about! Ever!” He forcefully shoved my shoulders again, causing me to fall back flat on the ground. He wrapped one hand around my jaw, pulling his other hand back behind his head and I instantly squeezed my eyes shut, trying to brace myself for the impact of his fist against my face. 

A second passed, then another, and then another. 

I was breathing so hard I felt lightheaded and when his fist didn’t collide with my face, I slowly cracked my eyes open. Harry’s fingers were unmoving from my jaw, his other hand still pulled back ready to punch me, but his eyes were wide with fear, his breathing coming out just as hard as mine. 

“Oh god,” he muttered, instantly releasing my jaw and pulling both of his hands up to cover his mouth. “Oh god, I’m so sorry,” he said, his words coming out quick. My heart was racing, every muscle in my body tensed up, and I blinked at him a few times before I realized that it was over. 

“Get the fuck off me,” I choked out. He instantly stood, reaching down to try and pull me up but I forcefully shoved his hands away. “Don’t touch me,” I growled, standing from the pavement and quickly snatching my duffle up from the ground. He looked like he was in shock, his once red cheeks now shockingly pale, like all the blood had drained from them. 

“I’m-- I’m so sorry-- Lou, I--” 

“Don’t.” I shook my head at him, not believing that situation had actually just took place. 

“Louis, no, I-- I’m sorry.” 

“No,” I said, shaking my head again. “Not this time, Harry. You can’t just apologize your way out of this one.” My voice cracked near the end, all of the emotions I had pushed away suddenly flooding back to me. My eyes burned, my throat constricting, and I knew I was seconds away from crying. 

I was _not_ going to cry in front of him. 

“Please,” Harry whispered, “I didn’t mean to-- I-- I would never hurt you.” 

“You already have.” I swallowed harshly, pleading with myself not to cry in front of him. I took a few steps back from him, my arms loose at my sides, the bag that was held in my right hand scraping along the pavement as I moved. “You got your wish. You’re not in a relationship anymore. You’re not _gay_ anymore. Have a nice _straight_ life, Harry.” 

He stood unmoving, his lips parted like he wanted to say something but nothing came out. I swallowed roughly again, forcing myself to turn around and willing my feet to move. I only got a few paces away from him before he spoke up. “So that’s it?” 

I stopped in my tracks, biting the inside of my cheek hard, letting his words repeat a few times in my mind before I slowly turned around. He was still standing in the same spot, his arms crossed over low on his stomach, his eyes blinking numbly at me. 

If this was a movie, it would be raining. 

Because nobody breaks up, in the street, with the sun shining. 

Actually, there is never any truly _dramatic_ scene in _any_ movie without rain being involved. We would be soaking wet, looking absolutely flawless in the process, and right about now Hear You Me by Jimmy Eat World would start quietly playing in the background. 

The camera would focus in on my face, watching as I bit down on my lip to choke back my tears. 

Then it would switch to Harry, showing how completely broken and numb he looked. 

I would whisper something profound like… _”I hope you can find happiness, Harry.”_ before slowly turning around, shouldering my duffle bag and then, just as lightning struck off in the distance, I would begin walking. The thunder would be perfectly synced with the last hit of the snare drum before the singer of Jimmy Eat World, whatever his name was-- Jimmy? Before Jimmy started singing, _”There’s no one in town I know.”_

The camera would zoom out, Harry’s entire street coming into view, showing the distance between us as I walked away from him. There would be some sort of blue filter on the camera, making the scene appear even darker than it actually was, and the rain would be loud enough that you could hear it over the depressing song that was gradually getting louder and louder. 

I would get further and further away from him and he would be staring at my back.

 _”You gave us some place to go.”_ Jimmy would be singing. 

Then of course, as the song continued, there would be footage of me walking to the train station. I would be wiping furiously at my cheeks with the sleeve of my jumper, my tears mixing in with the raindrops, readjusting the duffle bag on my shoulder as I walked. 

As the verse continued, there would be a quick montage of the next few weeks. I would be moping around the house, having sudden outbursts because I couldn’t get a grasp of my emotions. There would be a scene of me crying in the shower, probably. But ultimately, by the time the chorus came around, Harry would show up at my door to profess his love for me.

It would somehow be raining then too, even though the hallway of our flat complex had a roof over it. Little details like that didn’t matter for rain scenes. It would be raining and he would tell me he loved me and we’d live happily ever after. 

End credits. 

But… this wasn’t a movie. 

And it wasn’t raining. 

The was no Jimmy Eat World playing in the background. 

More than all of that, there wasn’t going to be any happy ending. 

Life never played out the way I wanted. I had spent so many hours watching stupid movies and reading awful Nicholas Sparks books (That were then turned _into_ awful movies.) that I had this… unrealistic expectation for what would happen in these moments. I think that’s why it was so easy for me to picture that rain scene in my mind. It’s the perfect ending for any romantic drama. 

But truth be told, there was nothing romantic about this.

Harry wasn’t going to chase after me. 

He wasn’t going to build me the house of my dreams and read me stories about our love when we were old. 

He wasn’t going to sacrifice himself by letting me have the door, leaving him to freeze to death in the water next to me. 

He wasn’t going to ruin his cool-guy reputation to love a nerd like me, kissing me in front of all of his friends during our school play. 

He definitely wasn’t my Noah; and as gay as I could be on some days, I would never be his Ally. 

He wasn’t my Jack Dawson either, and my brown-hair hindered me from ever being his Rose DeWitt Bukater. 

He wasn’t my Landon, and I’d never be his… whatever the fuck Mandy Moore’s name was in that movie. 

Real life was nothing like what you see in movies or read in books. 

Real life fucking _sucks_. 

This _moment_ sucks. 

So because of the fact this wasn’t a movie, or any best-selling novel, I didn’t have any award winning line to say to Harry. He had asked me if this was it, but I think we both already knew the answer to that. Maybe he was picturing the rain scene in his mind too; he had probably seen more movies than I had anyway. 

We stared blankly at each other for a moment, blinking slowly, letting this whole situation sink in.

Our relationship, if you could call it that, was clearly over. 

It had only lasted a few weeks, but to me it felt like a lifetime. 

And now it was gone. 

And that _sucked._

I swallowed the lump in the back of my throat, tears still burning the rims of my eyes as they threatened to fall. I took a few step backwards, my eyes locked on his, before turning around and walking away from him. I crossed my arms over my stomach, staring hard at the ground as I walked, my whole body feeling numb. 

_”May angels lead you in… hear you me, my friends.”_

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can we all just take a minute to... remember to breathe? 
> 
> This chapter tore my heart out. I knew I had to write it, and I knew exactly how I wanted it to turn out, but that still doesn't take away the pain I feel for both characters right now!
> 
> OH, and guys? Before you ask, THIS IS NOT OVER. I know the end of this chapter was really... _really_ deep, and could have POTENTIALLY been the ending to this whole story; but I would NEVER leave you guys with that! If I did, I would expect every single one of you to fly to Maryland, figure out where my apartment is, break down my door and smack me across the face! So =) Don't worry. I still have plenty of chapters for you. 
> 
> I am 100% overwhelmed by the amount of LOVE the last chapter got. I got BY FAR the most comments on any single chapter! You guys are so amazing and so supportive and I really just can't get over you. I was definitely going through a little rough patch, as you guys could tell, but THE KID IS BACK. Writing drama is where I shine... so expect a lot of updates! This is what I've been waiting to write. 
> 
> **THE LARGEST OF SHOUTOUTS to these CRAZY MOFOS (See what I did there?) that gave me SO MUCH LOVE that I felt like I could literally just float away: Nemo5678, Loubear, BeautifulPeopleLarry, Centa0592, Dianee2195, Eden, hanni_mikk, Theyr, fluffypinks, Yennsy, Mackenzie, niallersdirtymofo, London_Calls, my baby-boo and love of my life Entice, Sunkissed, sarrahbear, harry111 and my AMAZING wife LouisLoves. I wish I could find the words to tell you guys how much you mean to me. If I could, I'd write you all a love song. But, you don't want me to do that. It'd be awful. =)**
> 
> Hope everybody is having a FANTASTIC weekend! For those of you that are balls-deep in exams right now, STUDY HARD =) 
> 
> Love you guys!
> 
> BYYYYYEEEEE.


	24. Let It Burn

By the time I got back to my flat, it was well past midnight. 

My whole body felt numb, the same way it had been since I left Harry standing in the middle of his street. As I made my way up the stairs of our complex, I felt more and more like the walking dead. My whole body was threatening to shut down with each step I took and I mentally cursed us for picking a fourth-floor flat. 

I snuffled loudly, crouching down to retrieve my keys from the outer pocket of my duffle, my knees giving off a loud crack when I stood up straight. Even my bones were one hundred percent done with this situation. I don’t think I could come up with an adjective to describe how I was feeling at this moment, no matter how many dictionaries I could look through. There just wasn’t a word in the English language that could truly capture how utterly _broken_ I was. 

I stepped inside the flat, pushing the door closed and twisting the lock before turning around. It was completely dark and I wasn’t sure if Niall was home at all or if he was just asleep. If I wasn’t half-dead, I might have cared. But given my situation, I knew that my main priority had to be getting right pissed as quickly as possible so that I had a better chance at actually falling asleep. 

I dropped my bag carelessly to the floor, heading around to the kitchen and dropping my keys loudly down onto the countertop. I flipped the kitchen light on, the florescent lighting above giving off a loud hum as it powered on, and I headed directly to the corner cabinet. I pushed a few bottles out of the way before picking up the bottle of Patron Silver. 

I hastily removed the cork from the top, not even bothering to grab a glass of any sort and bringing the bottle directly to my lips. I took a large gulp of the foul liquid before pulling it away and grimacing loudly. I took in a few deep breaths before repeating the action. When I pulled the bottle away a second time, I brought my hand up to cover my mouth, my eyes closing as I willed my gag-reflex away. 

After breathing in and out a few times, my throat on fire from the harsh liquid, I slammed the bottle down onto the counter and leaned forward, resting my head in the palms of my hands. I stood there for a few moments, leaned over the countertop completely, before forcing myself to stand. I grabbed the bottle back up and took another large gulp. 

I gagged once, my body not able to cope with the volume of liquor I was suddenly forcing into it. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand before placing the bottle back down. I kicked my shoes off, letting them fall carelessly in front of the stove, before leaning back against the countertop and crossing my arms over my chest. I stared at the floor, already feeling light headed from the alcohol, the memories from tonight still fresh in my mind. 

I stared down at my barefeet for a few minutes before letting my gaze fall down to the grey jumper I was wearing. My heart rate sped up at just the thought of wearing Harry’s jumper and I quickly reached my hand back, grabbed the hood and then yanked it off. I held it in my hands for a moment, glaring down at it, before stomping over to the bin. I stepped down forcefully on the lever, causing the lid to pop up and I didn’t think twice before slamming the jumper down into the bin. 

I stepped back, my hands shaking and my eyes wide, panting slightly as I felt like the walls were slowly closing in on me. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted the un-washed tupperware container that Harry had left here the other night. He had waltzed in here, dressed perfectly in his stupid black jeans and a stupid white v neck, the tupperware container held in his left hand a fork in his right. 

“Hey, babe.” He had greeted me casually, pecking a kiss on my cheek before digging his fork back into the container. 

“Whatcha eating?” I had asked. 

“Leftover chicken; you want some?” He had responded, grinning at me as he turned the fork in my direction. 

I shook my head of the memory, hating everything that has to do with Harry. I quickly walked over to the sink and grabbed the tupperware, angrily stepping back onto the bin lever before tossing it hastily on top of the thrown away jumper. I let go of the lever and then pushed the lid down when it was taking too long; I didn’t want to see either of those stupid items. 

I hope that was his favorite tupperware. 

I hope that was his great grandmothers tupperware. 

I hope he had a deep, _emotional_ attachment to that tupperware. 

I reached back for the tequila bottle, taking another few gulps of the liquid, the alcohol going down easier now that I was already on my way to getting drunk. I stared at the bin, thinking about what was inside of it, and I suddenly had the urge to make sure _everything_ that had to do with Harry was _out_ of the flat completely. 

I grabbed the bottle back up from the counter before storming down the hallway, my body already heated from either the alcohol or the rage that was surging through me. I kicked my door open, flipped the light on and as I made my way over to the dresser I was already taking another sip of the liquid. 

I ripped open the closet door, kicking aside one of the jumpers that had fallen down from one of the hangers and snatched up the _stupid_ Lion King slippers that Harry had given me for the birthday. I tossed them onto my bed, pausing to take another sip of the tequila before pulling open the top drawer of my dresser. I glared at the shirt laying on top, Harry’s stupid Rolling Stones tshirt that he looked absolutely idiotic in (Or at least that’s what I was telling myself.), and I quickly snatched it up and tossed it towards the slippers. 

I picked up the bottle to take another sip, my eyes focusing on the yellow sticky note that was still stuck to my nightstand. I narrowed my eyes at it, reaching out and snatching it up. _”Couldn’t bring myself to wake you… Can’t wait to see you tonight babe.”_ As I read the note that Harry had left a few nights ago before sneaking out, I physically felt ill. I grabbed the other two items I had thrown onto the bed before stomping out of my room, taking another long sip of the tequila as I stormed back to the kitchen. 

I slammed the bottle down onto the cabinet, stomping my foot down onto the bin lever before angrily throwing the black tshirt in. I grabbed the slippers out from under my arm, giving them one last look before pulling my arm above my head and forcefully slam-dunking the slippers into the bin. I glared at the sticky note left in my hand, reading it one last time before angrily ripping it into a bunch of pieces, letting them fall on top of the pile like a depressing version of confetti. 

I stepped back, my breathing coming out in harsh pants, reaching a shaking hand towards the bottle and bringing it back to my lips. I felt like the room was spinning again, probably from all of the alcohol I had forced into my body in the last twenty minutes, and I quickly reached out to grab a hold of the island to steady myself. I braced my arms against the countertop, letting my head sag between my shoulder blades, closing my eyes as I tried to steady myself. 

_”I don’t think I… want to be.”_

I forced my eyes open, Harry’s hushed words running through my mind, and that’s when I snapped. 

I didn’t think twice before swiping my forearm across the island, causing all of the items that had been on the countertop to go flying off. The sound of glass shattering echoed through the flat, followed by different clanking noises that had come from the metal mixing bowl that had flown off towards the cabinet. I pushed myself off of the island, kicking the bin over harshly on it’s side, the sound echoing around the flat as well.

I used the same motion I had with the island when I got over to the bar, swiping my forearm across the whole thing and knocking everything onto the floor. I yelled loudly, not even sure if I was actually forming words or not, ripping at all the different pieces of paper that had been stuck to the fridge with magnets. I picked each magnet off the fridge, chucking it roughly across the room, cursing loudly at each one. 

“Jesus fucking Christ! You scared the piss outta me!” Niall’s voice rang through my ears. I jumped, not hearing him walk up, and I whipped around with a hand clutched against my pounding heart. He was standing in the kitchen doorway, dressed in a pair of grey trackies and black long sleeve, a silver bat held above his head in the ready-to-strike-position. “I thought you were a fuckin’-- a goddamn-- whatever the fuck!” he yelled, lowering the bat until the end touched the floor, his face flushed red and his eyes narrowed at me. 

I stood unmoving, panting harshly with my hands on my hips, my brain completely bogged down with tequila at this point. I watched as a confused expression slowly took over his expression, cocking his head to the side before speaking. “What’re ya’ doin’ here? I thought you were at Harry’s.” 

“Fuck him!” I exclaimed, harshly pushing over the container that held all of our cooking utensils. I watched as the assortment of spoons and whisks went spilling out onto the counter, most of them rolling off the edge and landing on the floor. I flicked my gaze back over to Niall, panting hard, watching as he raised an eyebrow at me.

“What-- err… what happened?” 

“What happened?!” I screamed, looking around frantically for something else to break. I eventually settled for ripping another magnet off and chucking it across the room when I realized there was nothing else within my reach. “What _happened_ was that I realized _what a fucking cock_ he is!” 

“Oh…” Niall said, dragging his word out longer than necessary. I grabbed the bottle and brought it back to my lips, my body easily accepting the harsh liquid now. Niall went to sit the bat down onto the bar, but after switching his eyes back and forth between us he decided to move it further away from me. (Probably a good idea.) 

“I can’t believe I ever felt _anything_ for that fucker!” I screamed, pointing an angry finger at Niall. “Why did you let me?!” 

He shrugged. 

“You had to have known it was going to end this way!” I continued. 

He shrugged again, one of his arms clutching his shoulder, the other draped around his waist. I glared hard before whipping around, looking for the next closest thing to me to throw. I snatched up the box of pasta that was on the counter and threw it in the general direction of everything else. I let another loud yell leave my lungs, whipping back around to face Niall when he spoke up. “Um, Lou?” 

“What?!” 

“Why are you taking it out on our kitchen?” His voice was hoarse and he had clearly been sleeping before my rampage started. 

“Because!” I screamed, panting hard as I tried to think of _why_ I was doing this. “Because I’m fucking angry!” I yelled, having to grab onto the countertop to steady myself when I realized I was leaning far to the right. He seemed to think it over for a second before shrugging, stepping forward and grabbing one of the plates from the dish drainer. 

“Try this,” he said, handing the plate to me. 

I yelled loudly as I hurled the plate towards the cabinets. 

It shattered on impact. 

“Another,” Niall said, shoving another pate in my direction when I had turned back around. 

“Fuck him!” I screamed, watching as _that_ plate shattered against the cabinets, the broken pieces of glass scattering across the kitchen floor. “I can’t believe he did this to me!” I yelled, ripping the next plate out of Niall’s hands before turning around and throwing it with every bit of strength I had left. 

I felt like my world was definitely falling apart and the alcohol was no longer helping. I was screaming at the top of my lungs, none of which came out as coherent words, and it wasn’t until I heard glass shattering again that I forced my eyes back open; not even realizing until that moment that I had even closed them. 

Niall was still standing in the same spot, though this time he had a huge grin across his face and half a broken plate in his hand. I blinked at him a few times, mostly to clear my vision, as my hand gripped onto the countertop to steady myself. “What?” He shrugged, “If we’re gonna have to buy new plates, I should at least get to smash _one_ of them.” 

“I wish-- I wish I had a fucking-- a goddamn…” 

“Whatcha want?” Niall asked, tilting his head to the side as I tried to remember which word I had been going for. 

“Picture of us,” I finally said. He blinked at me. “I wish I had a picture of us,” I repeated, “so that I could fucking _burn it._ Me and Harry, not me and you. I have pictures of me and you. You… and I? You and me? Fuck I don’t remember grammar.” I shook my head, “Me and you, I think...you and...I.” 

There was a moment of silence between us. Niall stood unmoving, blinking slowly at me before he finally asked, “You don’t have none?”

“I _do_.” I rolled my eyes, “But not printed out. Who the fucking-- who the _fuck_ prints… pic-- I’m drunk.” 

Niall chuckled, “Yeah you are. Lemme see your phone.” 

“No.” 

“Lou, give me your phone.” 

“Okay.” I nodded, reaching into my pocket and pulling out my phone before drunkenly tossing it at him. Thankfully, he still had his hand eye coordination and he was able to catch the phone without it dropping. Though, at this point, I’m willing to smash that stupid thing too. 

“Bee-are-bee,” he muttered before jogging off out of the room. I sighed loudly to myself, grabbing the tequila bottle and tipping back what was left. I thought about smashing the bottle afterwards, but I soon realized it was too much work. My muscles were on fire, from either exhaustion or the adrenaline from trashing my own kitchen, and while I would have loved to add onto the pile of broken things… it was just too much effort. 

I don’t know how long Niall had been gone, but I was just about to give up and stumble my drunken self to bed when he appeared around the corner, a bright smile on his face and a piece of cardstock pinched between two of his fingers. I raised an eyebrow at him, or at least tried to, before slurring out, “Whatcha got there?” 

He grinned at me, wiggling his eyebrows in the process, before ushering me over to the sink. Once I had gripped the sinks edges, blinking over at him in confusion, he turned the cardstock around and held it in front of me. 

It was one of the only few pictures we (Harry and I.) had together. 

I swallowed the lump in the back of my throat, blinking numbly at the picture in front of me. We were laying in his bed, both shirtless but you could only see down to our collarbones, and I remember he had taken it early in the morning without my consent. I was staring at him, he was staring at the camera, and I hadn’t realized what he was doing until he had already clicked the shutter button. 

I took a shaky breath in, “How… why?” 

“Here,” he answered, forcing a blue lighter into my hand. I jerked my head over to him, raising both of my eyebrows in his direction. He smiled brightly before singing loudly in my ear, “Let it burnnnn, let it burn… gotta let it burn!” I blinked at him again. “Usher is classic. Burn the fucking picture.” 

I turned my attention back to the picture in front of me and forced myself not to think twice about it. I flicked the lighter once, then again, then once more before it finally lit. With a completely expressionless face, I held the lighter up to the edge of the picture, waving the flame back and forth over the corner. 

Nothing happened. 

“Why isn’t it burning?” 

“Hold it closer to the middle,” Niall instructed, pushing my wrist towards the middle of the picture. 

The paper smoked, producing a foul smell, but the only flames were coming from the lighter itself. “Why isn’t it fucking burning?!” I exclaimed, my voice cracking on the last word. The lighter got too hot and I had to let go, watching as the paper smoked sadly in my hand. Suddenly, before I could even realize what was happening, I was sobbing. 

“Shh, shh, it’s okay,” Niall soothed, grabbing onto my hands and forcing me to let go of the smoldering picture. I sobbed louder. I leaned over the sink, my back arched as I cried into my folded arms, the putrid smell of burned paper still filling my nose. I was vaguely aware of Niall’s hands on my back but I only cried harder. “Don’t cry, Lou, it’s okay,” he whispered. 

“It’s not okay!” I exclaimed, standing up straight and stumbling back a few steps, reaching out and grabbing onto Niall’s arm to stop myself from falling backwards completely. “It’s not o-fucking-kay!” I yelled, sobbing around my words. “He thinks I’m disgusting!” 

“No he doesn’t--”

“Yes he fucking does!” I cut him off, another wet sob coming from my lungs. “He doesn’t want to be like me! He doesn’t want to be _with_ me! Because-- because I’m disgusting!” 

“Stop.” Niall shook his head at me, “Don’t say that.” I stopped crying, my stomach churning around and I could feel the lump in the back of my throat getting bigger. Niall took a step closer to me, a worried expression across his face, “What? What is it?” 

“I’m gonna--”

“Sink! Throw up in the sink!” 

I shook my head furiously, covering my mouth with both hands as I darted around him, racing down the hall (To the best of my ability.) before shouldering the bathroom door open. I barely had time to crouch in front of the toilet before I was emptying my stomach’s contents into the bowl. I retched loudly, my head spinning and tears streaming down my face, gripping onto the edge of the toilet bowl as I continued to vomit. 

I felt like I was being punched repeatedly in the gut. 

I hunched far over the toilet afterwards, sobbing loudly as everything hurt. My head hurt, my throat hurt, my stomach hurt and for whatever reason, my foot hurt. What hurt more than anything though was my heart. I haven’t had a broken heart in so long that I forgot how truly awful it felt; how it felt like somebody was literally tearing my heart into two different pieces. It hurt all the way down to my core, to the very pit of my stomach-- well, maybe that was just my stomach hurting, actually. 

I felt Niall crouching behind me and he reached forward, combing my sweaty fringe aside with his fingertips as I cried louder. “Shh, it’s okay,” he whispered, repeating it a few times as he pulled at my fringe, his knees boxing me in from where he was crouched behind me. 

“It’s not okay,” I cried, my eyes pinched shut as more tears dripped down my face. Niall gently pulled at my elbows, trying to get me away from the toilet bowl. I fell backwards onto my bum, Niall scooting out of my way and he helped me sit back against the tub. I pulled my knees up to my chest, pain shooting through my foot in the process, repeating again, “It’s _not_ okay.” 

“Shit, Lou, your foot,” Niall said, quickly reaching behind him and tearing off some toilet paper from the roll. I had my arms wrapped around my knees, pulling them tightly to my chest, but my arms soon fell as Niall pulled one of my feet towards him. I felt like I didn’t have enough strength to even hold my head up anymore. “Fuck, you got glass all in your foot…” 

“I’m so stupid,” I sobbed. 

“No, no, you’re not stupid,” Niall said. I closed my eyes and bashed the back of my head against the tub, repeating my previous statement. “There was glass everywhere, Lou, you’re not stupid.” I could feel him wiping at my foot with the tissue. 

“I’m not stupid cause of the glass,” I choked out, “I’m just... stupid.” 

“You’re not stupid,” Niall repeated. I let another loud sob leave my lungs, opening my blurry eyes and numbly watching as Niall used tweezers to pull out the shard of glass that had been stuck in my foot. I didn’t even feel it but I used it as an excuse to cry louder, causing Niall to apologize profusely for hurting me. I tried to tell him he hadn’t hurt me but nothing came out. So I just kept crying; crying harder than I had in years. 

“I’m so stupid,” I sobbed.

“Shh,” Niall hushed, gently easing my foot back onto the floor before scooting up to sit next to me. I hadn’t even realized he had put a bandage on it until I looked down. He pushed my fringe out of my eyes again, sitting on the tiled floor next to me with one knee bent up towards him, the other tucked up underneath. 

I cried harder, repeating the same thing I already had, the same thing I had been telling myself since I left Harry back in Cheshire. “I’m so stupid.” 

“Stop it,” Niall whispered, still running his fingers through my messy fringe. “Stop saying that.” 

“I’m fucking stupid... and I’m fucking gay... and I fucking hate myself,” I sobbed. 

His eyes widened, “Louis!” he exclaimed, grabbing onto my jaw and forcing me to look at him. When my eyes connected with his I was able to see the sadness behind them. I expected him to say something, to scold me for talking [honestly] about myself, but instead he kept giving me that same hurt expression. He let go of my jaw, then wiped at the corner of my mouth with the back of his thumb, cleaning it off onto his trackies afterwards. 

I looked down. 

It was my vomit. 

I officially had no dignity left in this situation. 

I cried harder. 

He pulled his sleeve down further around his hand before reaching back towards my face, wiping the tears off one of my cheeks before switching over to the other. “Stop it,” I cried, pushing his wrist away from me. “Just stop it!” With every second that passed by I hated myself even more; hated that I was so pathetic now that Niall had to literally take care of me. I looked back over to him, my eyes still blurry with tears, watching as he reached forward again. “Stop it!” I yelled, pushing his wrist away again. “You should hate me too!” 

“Shut up!” Niall exclaimed,, grabbing onto my arm with one hand and holding it away from me before wiping my cheeks with his other. “I fuckin’ love you,” Niall said, grabbing my chin and forcing me to look at him. “You _can’t_ make me not love you, do you hear me?!” he said, his tone stern and his eyes narrowed at me. “You can’t. So… so don’t fuckin’ try!” 

“I’m fucked up,” I sobbed, my whole body shaking against my will, Niall’s hand still clasped around my wrist. 

“Yeah, well… so am I.” 

“No you’re not.” I shook my head, “You’re fucking perfect. You’re always perfect. You’re always-- you’re always happy. 

“Do you think I’m happy right now?” he whispered, giving me that same hurt expression. 

I shook my head, “No! And it’s because of me!” 

“Louis,” he said, but I was quick to continue before he could get anything else out. 

“You’re _normal_ , Niall! You’re fucking normal and funny and-- and-- and loveable! Everybody loves you and everybody likes you and everybody wants to be friends with you; not me. Just you. I wish I was more like you.” 

“Louis, stop,” Niall squeaked, causing me to look over at him again. His eyes were rimmed red and he was frowning deeply at me, his cheeks flushed all the way down to his neck. I was aware that I had stopped crying, but it must have been because I ran out of tears because I still felt like crying on the inside. Especially with the hurt expression across Niall’s face.

“I hate myself,” I repeated, shaking my head, my eyelids heavy and wanting to close. 

“Stop saying that.” 

I shrugged, “Well, I do.” 

Silence. 

I rolled my head over to look at Niall again, only to find him with the same expression he had before. If I could punch myself right now, I would. Maybe I could talk Niall into punching me instead. We sat there in silence for a few minutes before he abruptly stood, muttering something to me as he reached down and grabbed me underneath the arms, forcing me into a standing position. I leaned against him as I stumbled across the hall towards my room. 

He sat me down on the edge of my bed and I instantly leaned forward, resting my head in the palm of my hands, my elbows across my thighs. My foot hurt now. “You gonna sleep in your jeans?” he asked, his tone quiet as he stood in front of me. I shook my head no but made no attempt to move. I felt his hands tug on my arms and I forced myself to sit up straight, my head lolling to the side against my best efforts. 

“You-- you got boxers on underneath these, right?” he asked, pointing towards my jeans. “I mean, can you warn me if I’m about to come face to face with Little Louis?” he asked. I shrugged after a moment, honestly not remembering if I had on underwear or not. He seemed to think it over for a second, chewing on his bottom lip for a moment before sighing loudly. He swatted my arms out of the way and popped the button of my jeans, effortlessly pushing me back by my shoulders until I was laid flat on my back. 

“I hope you remember this in the morning,” he mumbled, tugging roughly on the leg of my jeans, “Because you know you’re gonna owe me for like, the rest of your life, right?” I knew he wasn’t expecting an answer and was just talking so he wouldn’t be undressing me in silence. “Oh, thank God, underwear!” he beamed, tossing my jeans onto the floor and patting my knee. “Get under the covers, Lou.” 

I nodded but didn’t move. 

Actually, I don’t think I could move.

He sighed again, pulling me up by my arms again until I was in a sitting position. Once I was finally on under the duvet, rolled onto my side per his instructions, he crouched down in front of me. I blinked at him, my eyes feeling like they weighed a ton, wanting to just go to sleep. 

He rested his palm on my ribs, “You know I love ya’ more than anybody else in the _whole_ world, right?” 

I nodded. 

Well, I think I nodded. 

“You’re never goin’ to forget that, right?” he continued. 

I nodded. 

“No matter what you do, or _who_ you do, I’ll always be there for ya’.” 

I nodded again. 

“Are ya’ going to puke anymore?” 

I hesitated for a moment before shaking my head no. 

“Ya’ want a bucket just incase?” 

I nodded. 

He disappeared for a second before returning with the bin from the bathroom, the liner ripped out of it leaving it empty. He set it down on the floor just beside my bed before crouching back down so he could look me in the eyes again. “I love ya’, baby-cakes. Yell for me if you need me, okay?” 

Nod. 

He smiled weakly at me before bracing his palms on the edge of the bed, leaning forward and pressing a sloppy kiss to my cheek. He then stood, patted the top of my head twice and then turned to leave the room. He hovered in the doorway for a minute but my eyes were already closed, no longer able to hold them open.

Maybe he had something else to say, or something else to remind me of, but it’d have to wait for morning.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before I even _begin_ saying _anything else_ , let me just tell you guys HOW MUCH I LOVE YOU ALL. I've never received as many comments as I did for the last chapter and like, I really can't even begin to describe how loved it made me feel. Eveeeeen though most of you were outraged =) IN A GOOD WAY THOUGH, I know you aren't ACTUALLY mad at me. The amount of reviews stuck in caps lock seriously made me laugh =) 
> 
> This was another rough chapter, wasn't it? I know it broke my heart to write it and while I thought it would come easily, because of how much I love writing drama, it actually turned out to be pretty difficult to write. I think we can all relate to Louis in a way... heartbreak SUCKS ASS and it makes you do CRAZY things. (Like ruining your kitchen.) And also, NIALL! I forgot how much I loved writing his character. I hope everybody has a Niall in their life =) We all need one. 
> 
> **THE LARGEST OF SHOUTOUTS TO THESE AMAZING PEOPLE THAT MADE THIS WEEK _SO_ AWESOME FOR ME: London_Calls, loubear, harryharry, Sunday_love1234, Centa0592, Cissy_Horan, somarisz, Javier, Leia, Dianee2195, Yennsy, larrydirectionermcflied, my partner in Sparkle-Related-Crimes Entice, Eden, 1Ddreamlove, ILoveLou, unaware, my beautiful wife LouisLoves, TrishaPoole. 1dloveme, BeautifulPeopleLarry. Ted, sarrahbear and foreverlouis. I seriously can't get over you guys. I'm speechless.**
> 
> Extra shout-out to my biffle for proofing this for me to make sure it was up to the high standards I've set =) 
> 
> Apparently there's a blizzard coming here? I don't know. I'm sick of the snow. I don't know about you guys, or if it's snowed a lot (or at all.) where you live... but... frankly, I'm ready for it to be spring. So here's to hoping that I don't get buried alive in snow! I love you all to death! I will be updating very soon! (Unless I, you know, get buried alive. Which in that case... somebody come looking for me, please? I'll be the one with the laptop frozen to my lap.) 
> 
> BYYYYYEEEEE.


	25. Under Someone Else

When I woke up the next morning, with what tasted like dead bird in my mouth, I laid there for a long time without even opening my eyes. I was hungover, that was for sure, and as I tried to piece together the events of last night, my head began to hurt even more. I remembered going from smashing the kitchen to sobbing, and when the image of Niall wiping the puke off my face ran through my mind, I grimaced loudly and rolled over onto my side. 

I blinked my eyes open, feeling ashamed and even more heartbroken than before, and took a moment to just stare at the window across the room. I listened for any signs of movement, but the only sounds in the flat were coming from the radiator. I rolled my tongue around in my mouth, the sour taste still overwhelming my senses, and I finally forced myself to sit up. 

When the room stopped spinning, I grabbed a set of fresh clothes and headed off towards the bathroom. After clicking the door closed, I gently set the clothes down on the corner of the sink and stared at my reflection in the mirror. I had dark bags under my eyes, my skin paler than usual and my hair was sticking in all different directions. 

I looked as devastated as I felt. 

I made quick work of my morning routine, not taking any time longer than necessary in the shower; simply just wanting to wash the memories of last night away. Afterwards, I pulled on a pair of loose shorts and a clean shirt. I ran my fingers through my wet hair as I padded down the hallway, needing a gigantic dose of headache medicine and a cup of tea. I stopped in the kitchen doorway, shocked to find the room spotless. 

All traces of my meltdown had been swept up, the bin now righted and emptied of it’s contents. I let a long puff of air leave my lungs, feeling even worse now that I knew Niall had cleaned up the kitchen, and I took another moment to look around before heading towards the kettle. I paused in front of the fridge, reading the message that Niall had scribbled out onto the whiteboard. 

_Went to Tescos to buy paper plates since you broke all of ours!!!_   
_LOVE YOU._   
_P.S. You owe us plates._

I sighed quietly to myself, flipping the kettle on and grabbing a mug from the cabinet. I stood silently in the kitchen, my eyes fixated on the kettle as I waited for it to boil, images from yesterday still racing through my mind. I kept replaying the scene outside of Harry’s house over and over again, thinking of things that I should have said but hadn’t been able to think of at the time. It wasn’t until the kettle whistled that I was able to shake my head of it, numbly grabbing the pot and pouring the steaming water over the teabag. 

I paused, my spoon hovered over my mug, as muffled voices flooded through the walls. I blinked a few times, trying to hear the words that were being yelled.

_”Fuckin-- some nerve-- piece of--”_ I could only hear bits and pieces of the conversation through the wall, but I swore it sounded like Niall’s voice. I quickly set my spoon down, pushing off of the countertop with my hands and walking towards the front door; Niall’s unmistakable voice getting louder the closer I got. 

“I fucking _told you_ to stay away from him! We stood _right here_ and I fuckin’ said to _stay the fuck away from him._ ” 

My eyes widened, my heart speeding up in my chest. I quickly made the last few steps to the door, bracing my palms out flat against it and looking through the peephole. Niall was standing with his back to the door, Tescos bag swinging wildly with his gesturing arm, and… Harry. 

Harry was standing in front of his door, arms folded across his chest, staring down hard at the ground. I watched with one eye, not blinking and not breathing, as Harry mumbled something towards the ground.

Damn you and your mumbling! 

“What the fuck did you just say?” Niall exclaimed. 

“I said that… I-- Jesus, Niall, I tried really hard.” 

“You didn’t try at-fucking-all!” Niall yelled, the bag swinging back and forth again. “You were a fucking prick from the _start!_ Do you know _how many times_ I had to pick up the pieces from Hurricane Harry?!” Niall took a step towards him, the bag still swinging violently from its spot around his arm. “All you did was hurt him!” 

“I didn’t want to hurt him!” Harry looked up, glaring at Niall. 

“But you did! Over and over again you did!” 

I watched as Harry opened his mouth to say something but nothing came out. Hix expression showed how distressed he was by this whole situation and though I couldn’t see Niall’s face, I knew he was glaring hard at him. 

“I’m… I’m sorry.” Harry finally said. 

“Don’t fucking apologize to me!” Niall exclaimed. “ _I’m_ not the one you need ta’ apologize to!” 

“I already _have_ apologized to Loui--”

“No you didn’t!”

“I did!”

“Then _why the fuck_ was he _hulk-smashing_ our kitchen last night?!” 

“I-- well, I mean-- I--” 

“Exactly!” Niall cut his stammering off, “What did you do to him _this_ time?!” 

Harry looked down, wrapping his arms tighter around himself and avoiding Niall’s gaze completely. I watched as his lips moved, as he mumbled something towards the ground, but no matter how hard I tried I couldn’t hear the words coming out of his mouth. 

Didn’t anybody ever teach him how to speak properly?! 

“You _what?!_ ” Niall screamed. I sucked in a breath, watching as Harry continued to mumble, my heart pounding loudly in my ear drums. “You fucking bastard!” Niall yelled, suddenly lunging forward and punching Harry directly in his face. 

My eyes widened and I quickly pushed off the door, my hand fumbling with the doorknob before finally ripping it open. “Niall, stop!” I yelled, stumbling towards them as Niall cocked back and punched him again. Harry was on the ground now, not even fighting back, and Niall was hovered over him; one hand gripped in his shirt, the other hand delivering another blow to his face. “Stop it!” I screamed, grabbing Niall’s shoulders and trying to pull him off. 

“You fucking asshole!” Niall was screaming. I never realized how strong he was until I failed at pulling him off of Harry. 

“Niall, stop!” I exclaimed, my voice cracking with how loud my tone was. I wrapped my hands underneath his biceps and pulled him off of Harry with every bit of strength I had left in me. We stumbled back with the force of it and I had to brace one of my arms out to stop myself from falling backwards. My head whipped over to Harry, watching as he scrambled to get up, stumbling over his own feet as he tried to stand. 

Niall instantly bounced back, moving to lunge at Harry again but I quickly grabbed the back of his shirt, halting his movements. “Just stop it! Both of you! Stop!” I exclaimed, quickly moving around Niall to stand in between them. They were both panting and I held my arms out towards either one of them, increasing the distance between them. 

“Fuck you!” Niall yelled around me, pointing an angry finger at Harry. “Stay the fuck away from _both_ of us!” 

“Niall!” I yelled, focusing my attention solely on him. “Go inside!” I demanded, my eyes still wide with shock, my heart pounding and my hands shaking. His eyes flicked back over to me, his breaths coming out in harsh pants, and there was a moment of tension filled silence before he huffed. 

He reached down and angrily snatched up the Tescos bag before turning around and forcefully twisting the door knob, his knee colliding with the door as he tried to shove it open. He groaned loudly, digging in his pocket for his keys before shoving them into the doorknob and kicking the door open. He forcefully threw the Tescos bag down in the door jam before walking away, the bag blocking the door from closing on me. 

I took in a deep breath before slowly turning back around and taking in Harry’s appearance. He had his arms wrapped low around his stomach, his right eye squeezed shut from where Niall had hit him, and his face was angled down at the ground. His lip was bleeding, his hair sticking in different directions, and he continued to pant hard. 

“Your… your bleeding,” I muttered, reaching forward in an attempt to wipe the blood from his lip but he quickly stepped back. He looked up at me, a hurt expression across his face, and held his arms out to stop me from coming any closer. My heart was still pounding hard, so many different emotions running through me at once. 

He opened his mouth to say something but quickly shook his head, giving me one last look before turning around and heading back inside his flat. I breathed in deeply through my nose, letting my eyes close for a second before popping them back open. I pushed our door open, reaching down and snatching up the bag that had been propping the door before quietly stepping into the flat. 

I walked around the corner, only to find Niall pacing back and forth in the living room, one of his hands brought up to his mouth and he was chewing on his thumbnail. He stopped pacing as soon as he noticed me and he quickly turned towards me, pulling his thumb away from his mouth and pointing at me, “I’m not gonna fuckin’ apologize!” 

I held my palms up to him, shaking my head, silently telling him I wasn’t going to ask him to. 

“He fuckin’ deserves it!” he continued, “I shoulda done it weeks ago!” 

I sighed, “Niall--” 

“No! Fuck him!” 

“You… didn’t have to punch him…” 

“I should fucking _kill_ him is what I should do!” Niall exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air. “I can’t believe you even feel sorry for that stupid son-of-a-bitch,” Niall ranted, “ _especially_ after all he’s _done_ to you!” 

“I-- I don’t feel _sorry_ for him…” 

We stood in silence for a moment, Niall panting hard from across the room, before he suddenly moved towards me. “I’m not done with him!” he yelled, quickly shoving past me to head back towards the door. 

“Niall, stop!” I exclaimed, grabbing onto his arm and pulling him back. “Just stop it! This isn’t helping me!” 

“What am I supposed to do?!” Niall yelled, ripping his arm away from me and glaring hard. “I can’t just sit here and watch him hurt you _over_ and _over_ again! I won’t do it! I can’t do it!” he exclaimed, his words coming out fast and jumbled. “It hurts me too much, Lou! I can’t do it!” I watched as he took a deep breath in, running his fingers through his hair before slowly letting his arms fall back down to his side. While looking at the ground, completely avoiding my gaze, he whispered, “I can’t.” 

“I--I know,” I said, hesitantly reaching out to touch his shoulder. His arm flinched under my touch, his eyes still locked on the ground and breathing heavily. 

“Do-- do you not fuckin’ see how much I-- how much I love you, Louis?” Niall whispered, looking up at me with sad eyes. “You’re-- you’re everything to me and I-- I can’t just-- he’s a fucking asshole!” he said, his words getting louder with each word. I bit down on my bottom lip hard, my eyes locked onto his, my hand still rested on his shoulder. “I know I’m a bit… over protective when it comes to you, but I don’t fuckin’ care!” 

I sighed, “I know.” 

“And I know that you, for whatever reason, care about him, but I-- I can’t watch you hurt yourself anymore!” 

“I know,” I whispered, letting my hand drop from his shoulder and taking a step back. I wrapped my arms around my stomach and looked down at the ground, unable to keep looking at him when he was this upset. 

“So if you want to be mad at me for punching him… fine,” he said, causing me to look up at him again. “You can be mad at me all you want, but _don’t_ go running back to him!” he said, his tone stern and his eyes locked onto mine. “He doesn’t fuckin’ deserve you. He never deserved you!” 

“Then _who_ do I deserve, Niall?” I sighed at him, wrapping my arms tighter around myself. 

“Someone who… who won’t hurt you!” 

“Right,” I huffed. 

“Someone that… will make you laugh,” he said, his tone much quieter now. I looked up, only to find that he was now staring down at the ground. “Someone that will care about how _you_ feel and do things… just to make _you_ happy; even if it’s something they _hate_ or something that makes them… I don’t know, uncomfortable?” He shrugged slightly, still avoiding my gaze and staring hard at the floor. 

“Niall,” I whispered, taking a step forward and using my finger to lift his chin up. I smiled weakly at him, “The only person like that in my life is-- is you.” 

Without hesitating he continued, “Fuck, then marry me then!” 

_”Niall!”_ I chuckled, swatting at him. 

“No, I’m serious,” he said, his sad eyes locking back onto mine. “I mean, we were going to be in each other lives anyway, right? So… so why not?” 

“Niall,” I repeated, letting a puff of air leave my lungs. “Let’s be serious.” 

“I _am_ serious, Lou!” He groaned loudly, reaching out and grabbing onto both of my shoulders. “I already told ya’ once before that you were my soulmate. I don’t expect there to be any girl out there that will be a better match for me than you are,” he said, his eyes still locked onto mine. 

“You’re _not gay_ , Niall!” 

“So-the-fuck-what?!” 

I rolled my eyes, “So wouldn’t you say that’s a _big problem_ for this master plan of yours?” 

He shook his head, unaffected by my sassy tone. “Not at all!” He shrugged light heartedly, “As long as you promise to never put that--” he looked down at my crotch, “--in me arse, then we can live happily ever after!” 

“Exactly!” I yelled, “that’s my point exactly! You _aren’t_ gay!” 

“Oh, come off it.” He groaned loudly, “ _You people_ do other things than just stick it in each others bum.” 

“Niall, babe,” I chuckled, shaking my head slightly. I reached forward and cupped his cheek with my hand, my eyes locked back onto his. “I love you to death, but… but you aren’t gay.” 

“Maybe I can be,” he whispered. “For you.” 

I groaned loudly, quickly stepping back from him and rolling my eyes. “I’m so fucking sick of that!” 

“Sick of what?” he squeaked. 

“Sick of people changing for me!” I exclaimed, anger running through me. “ _You’re_ not gay, Niall. _Harry’s_ not gay. _I’m_ the only one who’s gay here! And I’m sick and tired of people having to _change_ themselves to be with me!” I yelled, throwing my hands up in the air. Niall frowned deeply at me, wrapping his arms around himself.

“I just want somebody that will love me for _who I am_ and-- and what I am! And I can love _them_ for who _they are_ and we could-- we could just… just work!” I exclaimed, my voice cracking near the end. “But apparently that just doesn’t exist.” I shook my head, “Maybe I’m just… _that_ guy that’s supposed to be alone for the rest of his fucking life.” 

“Lou--” 

“I love you.” I cut him off, “And I love that you’re willing to go gay for me,” I said, shaking my head. “But that’s not what I need from you.” 

“Then what _do_ you need?” Niall sighed loudly. 

I took in his words, breathing in deeply through my nose as I tried to come up with an answer. Truth be told, I didn’t know what I needed. I knew what I _wanted_ ; I wanted to not feel so fucking heartbroken right now. But this wasn’t my first broken heart and I knew from experience that… the only cure was time. I looked back up at him and then slowly shrugged, unable to find the words to say anything. 

“Pancakes?” He finally said. 

I blinked at him, “What?” 

“Do you need pancakes?” 

“I…” 

“Yes or no.” 

“Um…” 

“Waffles maybe?” 

“Niall, I…” 

“Come on, Lou.” He rolled his eyes, grabbing onto my arm and pulling me around the corner into the kitchen. “Everybody knows that in order to get over a broken heart you need ta’... ta’ just eat your sorrows away,” he said, directing me to sit on the counter as he headed over towards the pantry. “So what’ll it be?” 

“I… I guess pancakes would be good…” I trailed off, confused as to how we were suddenly talking about food after all that had just happened. 

“Pancakes it is.” 

I gripped the countertop, slowly hopping up onto it and then resting my hands in my lap. I looked down at my hands, fidgeting them together as I listened to Niall rummage around in the pantry. I inhaled deeply through my nose, trying to ease the tension that was still stuck inside me, and lifted my head up as Niall closed the pantry door. 

“Is it coz’ I didn’t get down on one knee?” he asked, arms full of pancake ingredients. I chuckled softly, smiling weakly at him as I shook my head. “Is it coz’ I didn’t have a ring?” he pressed. I shrugged, grinning at him as he threw his head back and laugh. “Shit. My first proposal and I already fucked it up.”

 

* * *

 

Later on that day, after Niall and I had silently ate our pancakes in the kitchen, I found myself slumped down low on the couch, my legs tucked up underneath me. Niall was sitting at the other end, slouched far down as well, remote held tightly in his hand across his lap, mindlessly flipping through the channels. He finally settled on a movie that was already halfway in, one I didn’t recognize, and he let the remote fall onto the couch between us. 

We watched in silence for a while, though my mind was still stuck on Harry. 

And I hated myself for wondering if he was okay. 

I groaned loudly, readjusting my legs underneath me and scooting back into the cushions further. “How do I forget about him?” I asked, my tone quiet and my eyes fixated on the telly, even though the images never fully made it to my brain. 

“You don’t,” Niall responded, after a minute or so of silence had gone by. “You just… move on.” 

“How?” 

I rolled my head over to the side, blinking numbly at him. He kept his eyes on the telly, shrugging slightly before finally saying, “By just… living your life. Doin’ everything you did _before_ Harry.” 

“I don’t remember what I did before Harry.” I sighed, “I feel like we were together for… years.” Niall hummed once but didn’t respond, his eyes still blinking at the television. I sighed again, letting my head fall back onto the cushions and staring up at the ceiling. 

The dialog from the movie was the only sound in the room for a long time, but I was too lost in thought to pay it any mind. I jumped slightly when Niall spoke up again, almost forgetting that he was in the room entirely. “My mum used to say that you can’t get _over_ someone without getting _under_ someone else.” 

I rolled my head over to the side, giving Niall a disgusted expression. 

He grinned at me. 

“Your family is fuckin’ disgusting,” I said, rolling my eyes. 

“Nah.” He waved me off, “We’re just irish.” I chuckled quietly, looking back up at the ceiling for a moment before letting my eyes close. I thought about what had happened this morning, the things Niall and Harry had said to each other before Niall had lunged at him, and when I replayed the scene again in my mind something caught my attention. 

“Niall?” I asked, opening my eyes and rolling my head back over to look at him. 

“Hmm?” 

“When did you tell Harry to stay away from me?” 

“Hmm?” he hummed again, avoiding my gaze by staring intently at the telly. I continued to stare at the side of his head, knowing that he could feel my eyes on him. He sighed quietly, bringing his hands up and running them through his hair once before dropping them back to his lap. He looked over at me, “New Years.” I opened my mouth to respond but stopped myself, clicking my tongue in thought as I tried to piece it together. He sighed again, “After you ran out of here… you had been talkin’ to fuckface out on the balcony.” 

“Oh,” I said, dragging the word out as I pictured the scene in my head. “What did… you say?” 

“Nothing.” He shrugged, his eyes still locked on the telly. 

“Niall…” 

“I _may_ have yelled at him.”

“What did you say?” I asked quietly, tilting my head up and looking down to my lap. 

“I just…” he began, pausing for a moment before continuing. “I just told him he was dumb.” 

“In those words?” 

“Not quite.” 

Silence. 

“Louis, don’t worry about it. It’s in the past now.” 

Silence. 

“Fine,” he groaned. I looked over at him, waiting for him to continue. “I told him that he was a gigantic, cocksucking bastard who better _stay the fuck away from you_ from now on.” 

“Niall…” 

“I also told him to get out.” 

I blinked at him a few times.

“Okay, I _kicked_ him out.” 

I blinked some more. 

“ _Fine_ ,” he huffed, rolling his eyes. “I grabbed him by his ugly-ass shirt and _forced_ him out. And he’s lucky that’s all I said to him that night!” he said, his tone getting louder with each word. “ _Especially_ after he brought some skank in here with him.” He paused for a moment before grinning at me, “I kicked her ass out, too.” 

I sighed. 

I looked back down to my lap, my hands fidgeting together in front of me, “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“Because,” he said. “I knew you’d be mad. I’m surprised he never told you, actually.” 

“Yeah…” I trailed off. I let my head fall back against the couch again, letting my eyes close as I let a lung puff of air leave my lungs. “We were… never really good at communicating.” 

Niall sighed and I could feel him shifting around on the couch. When I felt pressure against my curled up legs I opened my eyes, looking back over to see that he was now curled up on his side, his arm folded against my legs and his head resting on it. We sat in silence for another few moments before he spoke up again. 

“Can I ask you summin?” 

“Yeah,” I whispered, leaning my cheek against the back cushion and staring down at the top of his head. 

“Why do ya’ like him so much?” 

My breath caught in my throat, taken back by his blunt question. “I-- I don’t know…” 

“I mean… it was always so complicated with him, wassinit?” 

“Ye-- Yeah...but…” 

“Like since the start,” Niall continued. “You guys never really had that… puppy-love stage, ya’ know? It was always just… drama.” 

Suddenly I felt defensive. “It wasn’t _all_ drama, Niall.” 

“I know,” he said, shifting around on the couch, his shoulder digging into my legs in the process. “Maybe not. But, I mean, why Harry? Out of _all_ the blokes in London, why does it got to be Harry?” 

“Right. Because _all the other blokes_ in London are just _breaking our door down_ to get to me right now.” I rolled my eyes, even though he couldn’t see it. 

“Ya’ know what I mean, dickhead,” he groaned. “Why him? What was it about him?” 

I let his question sink in for a second, shifting my head back up to stare at the ceiling. “I don’t know.” I finally said, “I’ve never really given it much thought…” I trailed off. “It was just… something about him, I guess.” 

“What did you lads even _talk_ about?” 

“Lots of things,” I said quickly. “We were _great_ at talking about nothing… we just-- well, we were shit at talking about… important things.” 

“Oh,” Niall said, not having anything better to say. 

I sighed, “I don’t know how to explain it.” 

Silence. 

“He was just… everything I wanted,” I whispered. “He’s smart and funny… and very witty,” I continued, chuckling dryly to myself as I thought about all the things I _did_ love about Harry. “He’s drop-dead _gorgeous_ with, like, muscles I didn’t even knew existed…” I trailed off, laughing quietly. “And he was always _so_ caring towards me… like was always worried that I was cold, or that my feet were cold.” Another chuckle left my lungs, though it wasn’t out of humor in the slightest. I felt a pain in my chest, the same heartbreak that I had been feeling on and off all day. “He’d always open doors for me… like, even before we were… whatever we were. He-- he’s a gentleman, through and through.” 

“Right,” Niall huffed, clearly disagreeing with my last statement. 

I pinched my eyes shut, bringing my hands up and scrubbing my cheeks hard. I let my hands drop back down to my lap but kept my eyes squeezed closed as I continued. “He had this, like… ability to make me feel, I don’t know, loved. Without even trying… just by the way he cared about me and would do these tiny things for me… I-- I don’t know.” My voice cracked near the end, my eyes burning, and I tried desperately to hold the impending tears back. 

I didn’t want to cry over him anymore. 

“But it doesn’t matter anymore,” I choked out. “Because it’s over.” 

Niall must have been able to hear the tears in my voice because he patted my ankle twice, then let his fingers wrap around my ankle as he rested his palm there. I breathed in deeply, willing my emotions away, blinking my eyes open at the ceiling. We sat in silence for another few moments, the telly seeming much quieter now-- maybe Niall had turned it down?-- before he finally spoke up again.

“So I guess this is day one of PHA.” 

“Of what?” I asked, confused. 

“PHA. P-H-A. Post-Harry Apocalypse.” 

I sighed, “Yeah. Day one…” 

“You know,” he said conversationally, “I really _thought_ he was gay.” 

“Yeah,” I mused, “me too.” 

“I mean,” he continued. “What kind of self respecting _straight_ man uses _smiley faces_ in his text messages?” I let a bark of wet laughter leave my lungs, my eyes still closed and my head pointed up at the ceiling. Leave it to Niall to make me laugh when I was on the verge of crying. Niall chuckled along with me for a second, then after another beat of silence he said, “My offer still stands, you know.” 

“What’s that?” 

“I’ll marry you.” 

I smiled weakly, my eyes still closed, thankful that at least I still had a Niall in my life. “Thanks, but no.”

Silence. 

“What if I _think_ about letting you put it in me arse?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiii lovelys!
> 
> **Update:** For whatever reason... AO3 decided to cut off half this chapter when I originally posted it... so... PLEASE make sure you got the whole thing! It cut it off in the middle of Niall/Harry's fight. And it was pretty obvious. So, if you were SUPER confused and was all "WTF, KATE?"... hit refresh and try again =) SORRY, GUYS.
> 
> I’m 5329583209% aware of how much I suck for taking so long to update =( I’m so sorry guys! I would like to blame the blizzard that happened (or the TWO times it’s snowed since then.) I mean, would you guys believe me if I did? Would you believe that I was stuck in like, some sort of igloo, surviving by eating cat food and drinking my own urine? 
> 
> ...Too much? Too much. 
> 
> Sorry ‘bout that. 
> 
> I have no excuses for you. I just suck
> 
> BUT YOU KNOW WHO DOESN’T SUCK? UM. YOU GUYS. I absolutely LOVED all of your responses to the last chapter. You’re all so funny and witty and beautiful andddd I just live for your comments =) 
> 
>   **Speaking of those comments, HUGE shoutout to THESE amazing people: Nemo5678, Toni, Centa0592, Leia, Javier, niallersdirtymofo, Moo, tomlinslut, nouisPLEASE, sunkissed, London_Calls, Teddy, BeautifulPeopleLarry, my wonderful wife LouisLoves, loube, M, ILoveLou and my baby-boo Entice, who commented in spirit =) I LOVE YOU ALL.**
> 
>  I’m already half way through the next chapter guys, so hopefully I can… somehow get back to my quick updates that you’re used to!!! Here’s to hoping, right? Anyway, I hope everyone had an amazing weekend. And if you’re in the US, I hope you enjoyed your LONG weekend! I know I did. I spent like, the ENTIRE weekend on the couch watching SO many movies. All by myself. 
> 
> Y’all jealous of my crazy exciting life? I would be. Damn.
> 
> ...I’m so sassy today, guys! I’m sorry! I LOVE YOU ALL and I’m SO THANKFUL FOR EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU and I hope you enjoyed this chapter! 
> 
> Extra shoutout to Ducky for being my Niall. (Girl, I know you're creepin.) 
> 
> BYYYYYYYYYYYYYYE.


	26. Hashtag Team Nouis

**PHA: Day Two**

It was officially day two in my post-Harry world. It was Monday and as I made my way through the lobby at work, tugging at my red tie that felt incredibly tight, I couldn’t help but feel like I hadn’t been to work in _weeks._ Obviously I had gone to work on Friday, only three days ago, but on Friday… my world was completely different. 

I was filled with equal parts excitement and nerves that Friday, knowing that I was leaving early to catch my train to Cheshire with Harry. I had watched the clock all day, counting down the minutes until I could leave this place and run to Harry; preparing myself for the amazing weekend to come. 

Had I known then what I know now, I wouldn’t have been be so eager to leave. 

Now, walking through this lobby, the same lobby I had walked through every day for more than a year, I felt like a completely different person. I _was_ a completely different person. I was Louis… minus Harry. If I could have justified staying home today, I would have. But Niall was right; I had to keep living my life. 

I had to do everything I would have before. 

And unfortunately, that included going to this place. 

When the lift stopped on my floor, I hesitantly stepped out and to the right, heading towards my cubicle. My suit jack was hung over my arm, my brown briefcase hung over my shoulder and bouncing against my hip, my heart completely broken on the inside but forcing a fake smile on the out. 

I made my way down the row of cubes, my eyes casted down towards the ugly grey carpet, but stopped dead in my tracks when I almost ran into somebody. I quickly glanced up, my eyes falling upon Barnes. He had stopped abruptly too, empty mug in his hand and the same sour expression he always wore. 

“Barnes.” I greeted with a tight lipped smile. 

“Tomlinson.” 

“Enjoy your weekend?” 

“Piss off,” he groaned, rolling his eyes before shoving around me and heading off towards the kitchen. I inhaled deeply through my nose, holding it in for a moment before slowly letting it out. I forced my feet to keep moving, making the final few steps until I could round into my cube. I set my things down on the end of the desk, blinking numbly at the computer and desk chair for a moment. 

This is your life, Louis Tomlinson. 

I sighed, grabbing the back of the chair and pulling it out before plopping down into it. I scooted closer to the desk, reaching down to power on the computer and then watching as the monitors came to life. I watched the loading screen for a moment before something caught my attention out of the corner of my eye. 

I looked over at the small calendar that was thumb-tacked to the cubicle wall, glaring harshly at the word “Cheshire” that was scribbled across this weekend in red marker. I thought about ripping the whole calendar down and force feeding it to the shredder, but I quickly decided that was too dramatic, even for me. Instead, I ripped open one of the drawers and grabbed the supplies I would need. 

A pen, a paper clip and scotch tape. 

While the computer continued to power on, I unfolded the paper clip until it was a straight piece of metal, then used the tape to carefully attach the spear-like object to the end of the pen. When I was finished, the forgotten computer now stuck on my login screen, I smiled proudly down at my creation. 

“What the fuck are ya’ doing?” 

I whipped my head over to look at Niall, who was standing in front of my cube in his normal work trousers and button down shirt, a steaming mug held in his left hand and a confused expression across his face. 

“Making a dart.” I replied casually, scooting my chair further back from my desk and then throwing the improvised dart towards the calendar. It had seemed like a flawless plan in my head, but the pen bounced right off the calendar (Without even leaving a mark.) and fell pathetically down to the desk. I sighed loudly, realizing I couldn’t even make a dart properly, and quickly reached forward the snatch the pen up. 

After giving it one more go, I groaned and angrily tossed the pen/dart/failure into the bin. 

“Mhmm,” Niall hummed. “Ya’ know, I’m not even gonna ask.” 

“Good,” I said, rolling myself back in front of my computer and angrily typing my login into the windows prompt. “You were up early,” I commented, after realizing that Niall was still hovering outside of my cube. 

“Yeah… I had, um, something to take care of.” 

“Kay,” I said, my back still turned to him. 

“Don’t forget we have that board meeting at half ten.” 

“Kay.” 

“You want me to make you a cuppa?” 

“Nope,” I replied, popping the end of the word. Niall lingered for another few moments before he sighed quietly, walking away shortly after that. I leaned far back in my chair, running my hands through my hair a couple times before letting them drop down to the side.

I hated everything about my Post Harry Apocalypse.

 

* * *

**PHA: Day Four**  


I was pecking at my lunch, sat in a booth across from Niall, listening as he rambled on about something that had happened to him this morning. My phone was laying on the table next to my plate and I couldn’t help but check it every few minutes. I placed my half-eaten sandwich back down on my plate, wiping my mouth off with my napkin before pressing the home button on my phone, my background fading in and showing that I had no unread text messages. 

I sighed. 

“So then Johnson walks _straight up_ to him, right? And he says, _fuck that_ I’m totally _Team Jacob.”_

I looked up from my phone, giving Niall a confused expression, clearly having missed the first part of this story. Niall threw his head back and laughed, then with a mouth full of food he continued. “So then _O’Riley_ comes outta no where, yeah? And he’s like _fuck you, Johnson! Team Edward for life!_ ” 

I blinked some more. 

“And I’m just sittin’ there!” Niall cackled, “Listening to these _grown ass lads_ talkin’ bout fuckin’ Twilight!” He laughed loudly again, then took another giant bite of his sandwich. He chewed twice before saying, “What a bunch’a twats!” Once he had swallowed his food, he took a long sip of his drink and then said, “I heard one of ‘em actually say _hashtag_ Team Edward. Who tha’ fuck hashtags outside ‘a twitter?!” 

I chuckled quietly, still very confused by his story but trying to make it seem as though I had been following along. I pressed the home button on my phone again, out of simple curiosity, but Niall groaned shortly afterwards. “What the fuck do you keep checkin’ your phone for?” 

I looked up and parted my lips to respond, but quickly snapped my mouth shut and shrugged instead. I busied myself by picking back up my sandwich and taking another small bite, not really having an appetite at all. As I chewed, I thought about why I _have_ been checking my phone so much, but I knew it was for the same reason that I had been all week. 

“I just,” I started, setting my sandwich back down and leaning back further into the booth. “I don’t know, I guess I just… keep expecting him to text me or summit.” 

Niall raised an eyebrow, leaned far over the table with his elbows boxing in his plate. “Whatever the fuck for?” 

I shrugged again, “I don’t know.” 

“You _want_ him to text you?” 

“No.” I replied instantly, shaking my head. 

“I think I made it _very_ clear to him that I didn’t _want_ him textin’ you,” Niall said, rolling his eyes before taking another large bite of his sandwich. With a mouth full of turkey he said, “He’s flared ah the mun blow.” I blinked at him, giving him a confused expression. He rolled his eyes again, then swallowed his food. “I said, he’s scared of the gun show.” 

“Yeah, I’m sure that’s it,” I replied sarcastically. 

“If ya’ don’t want him to text you, why do you look so disappointed every time you check your phone?” 

I sighed, “I’m not disappointed. I just… I don’t know. I just expected him to… try and talk to me.” 

“But you don’t _want_ to talk to him?” 

“No. Absolutely not,” I said, shaking my head to further my point. 

He nodded, finishing off the last of his sandwich. “I think you’re full of shit.” 

“Thanks.” I rolled my eyes, my hands fidgeting in my lap. 

Without missing a beat, Niall continued. “Do ya’ think that if _we_ were in a movie, or a book or summit, that people would like, what’s it called? Boat us?” 

“What?” I asked, raising an eyebrow at him. 

“You know, like this whole Team Edward or Team Jacob shit that the lads were talkin’ about. What the fuck is that called?” Niall scratched at his head, “It’s like boat or summit. Boat… boat… what the fuck is another name for a goddamn boat?!” 

“Ship?” I offered. 

“Ship! You’re a fuckin’ genius!” 

I blinked at him.

“Do ya’ think people would ship us? You and me?” 

I laughed, “Probably not.” 

“Heyyyyyy,” he whined. “Why not?” 

“Because.” I rolled my eyes, “We have no chemistry.” 

“So you’re sayin’ that they’d ship you and that curly headed twat over _me_?” 

I shrugged, “Probably.” 

“No.” He shook his head, slapping his hand down flat on the table causing me to jump. “Fuck that. Hashtag Team Niall.” 

I rolled my eyes, “Hashtag you’re-a-fucking-knob.” 

“Hashtag Niall-and-Louis-forever.” 

“Hashtag _why-are-we-still-hashtagging?_ ” 

He threw his head back and laughed, wrapping his arms around his stomach in the process. I couldn’t help but chuckle along with him, glad for the distraction even if it only lasted a moment. “Whadda ya’ think our _ship_ name would be? Liall?” 

“That’s a horrible name.” 

“Then whadda you think it’d be?” Niall rolled his eyes, “And don’t say summin’ gay like _Nouis._ ”

 

* * *

  
**PHA: Day Seven**

It was late Saturday night. 

Niall had tried to drag me out to the pub with him, but despite his best efforts, I had refused. I had opted to lay in front of the telly all night instead, watching horrible shows on Netflix, slumped far down into the couch while wearing my fat pants. I mean, afterall, Niall was the one that said I should do everything I did before Harry. 

_This_ is what I used to do. 

I was halfway through an episode of Chopped when I heard a loud _thump_ against the front door. I reached forward and grabbed the xbox controller, quickly pausing the show as I listened for the noise again. After a few moments had passed, and I had decided I was crazy, I went to unpause the show but right as I did I heard the same thumping noise as I had before. 

I tossed the controller aside and ripped the blanket off of me, quickly standing up and walking over towards the door, trying to figure out where the noise was coming from. I subconsciously tiptoed when I got closer to the door, the wooden floor cold against my barefeet, and when I got within arms reach, I braced my palms against the door and blinked through the peephole. 

Harry. 

I instantly pulled away from the door, pulling my hands towards my chest as if I had touched something hot. I blinked down at the floor, my heart beginning to pound in my chest, unsure as to why Harry was standing outside. Why hadn’t he knocked? It definitely wasn’t a knocking sound I had heard. I shifted my weight between my feet as I debated what to do, wringing my hands together in front of my chest. I jumped when the thumping sound happened again, this time much louder now that I was standing next to the door, and I instantly leaned back towards the peephole. 

He was glaring at our door, muttering something that I couldn’t hear and I watched as he crouched down, out of my view, before popping back up with something held in his hand. I squinted, trying to figure out through my distorted view what it was that he had in his hand. My eyes instantly widened when I saw him tossing the object around in his hand a few times before his arm cocked back to throw it at my door. 

I quickly pulled away, grabbing the door knob and ripping it open. “What the fu--” I cut myself off when I had to duck, the white object flying over me and landing with a _splat_ against the wooden floor. I stood back up, whipping my head over to where it had landed. There was a long trail of egg yolk against the wooden floor and at the end of it was the cracked shell laying in pieces. “Are you fucking _kidding_ me?!” I yelled, snapping my head back over to Harry, glaring hard at him in the process. 

His eyes were wide, a shocked expression on his face, and his hands were brought up to cover his mouth. He finally recovered from his initial shock and he dropped his hands from his mouth, resting his hands on his hips and I didn’t miss the way he swayed a bit. With my jaw hung open, I looked down at the green door of my flat and noticed the other egg stains that were littered across it. “What the fuck are you doing?!” I cried, snapping my head up to glare at him. 

“I’m-- um, yes. I’m egging you.” 

“You’re _egging_ me?!” I exclaimed, my eyes wide and my jaw dropped. 

“Yes. That’s what it’s called right? Egging? I’m-- I’m throwing eggs at you,” he stammered, fumbling over his slurred words. “Well, not _at_ you-- actually, that one went at you.” He pointed at the egg that had flown past me and landed in the foyer. “But only because you opened the door. That wasn’t _supposed_ to go at you; sorry about that one.” 

I blinked at him, my jaw still hung open, trying to wrap my head around what was happening in front of me. He swayed to the side again before quickly correcting himself, placing his hands back on his hips as he gave me a pointed look. I took in his bloodshot eyes and his flushed cheeks for a moment before asking my next question, my tone still loud. “Are you fucking drunk?!” 

He hesitated for a moment before nodding, “Yes. Yes I am.” 

“Why the fuck are you egging my flat?!” 

“Well,” he said, then shrugged once. “Because I’m angry.” 

“ _You’re_ angry?!” I cried, my jaw dropping again, blinking madly at him. 

“Well, no.” He shook his head, “I _was_ angry. Now I’m… not.” 

“So let me get this straight,” I said, glaring hard at him. “You _were_ angry and then… when you _weren’t_ angry _anymore_ , you decided to _egg_ me?!” 

“Yes.” He nodded, “Wait, no.” He shook his head, “I mean, I’ve always _wanted_ to egg someone before… so… yes. Yes that’s right.” I watched as he swayed far over to the right and for a second I actually thought he was going to fall over. He stumbled a bit, holding his palms out flat to steady himself before blinking over at me again.

I narrowed my eyes further at him, “Why the--” 

“Shh,” he hushed, bringing his pointer finger up in front of his lips. “Why don’t you let _me_ talk this time?” 

Considering I was pretty speechless, not expecting to find Harry throwing eggs at my flat tonight, I decided to let him talk. I crossed my arms over my chest, jutting my hip out to the side and leaning my head to the left. I raised both of my eyebrows at him, giving him a look that said: _go on._ He seemed to take a minute to collect himself, and I watched as he visibly swallowed the lump in the back of his throat before he continued. “Right. I, um, just wanted you know that I try-- that I _tried_ really hard to, like, um, make you… happy.” 

“Oh, please,” I groaned, narrowing my eyes further at him. 

“And, like, I know that I… didn’t? I didn’t happy-- I didn’t make you happy,” he stammered, looking off to the side as if he had confused himself. Why was he so horrible at speaking when he was drunk? Actually, he was horrible at speaking _all the time._ With his damn mumbling, and his damn slow words, and his damn-- “And I’m, like, um… really sorry that I didn’t? That I didn’t make you happy. But I’m-- I’m not sorry that we, like, um, broke up.” 

My jaw dropped again. 

He continued, “Like, I know that’s what you want to hear?” he said, though it sounded more like a question. “You-- you want me to, like, apologize. For breaking up, I mean. But, um… I’m-- I’m not gonna do that.” 

“Then what the _fuck_ do you want?” I asked, my tone stern and my eyes narrowed hard at him. 

“I-- I wanted to tell you that, I’m like, you know. Sorry for not…” he trailed off, “making you happy. But not about breaking up.” 

I rolled my eyes bitterly, “Did we even really _break up_ , Harry? Was there anything _to_ break up?” 

“Yes.” He nodded 

“Was there? Because I feel like our whole relationship, or whatever the fuck you want to call it, was a _bold faced lie._ ” 

“That’s not true,” he said, his tone sounding hurt. I rolled my eyes again. I watched as he brought one of his hands up to tug on his messy curls and for a moment I thought about running to the loo and grabbing Niall’s hair clippers. Harry was pretty drunk, I could probably overpower him and cut his stupid curls right off. “There… there was lots to break up,” he continued. I huffed. “I liked you so much Louis.” 

“Mhmm, right,” I agreed, my tone dripping with sarcasm. 

“I did!” he defended. “So much that… that even _now_ I’m still… I’m still…” 

“You’re still what?!” 

“I’m still wanting to egg you!” he blurted out, his words coming out faster than they had all night.

“Piss off,” I groaned, readjusting my stance and recrossing my arms over my chest. He frowned, clutching the back of his neck with both hands and then looking down to the ground. I wondered for a moment if that was it; if this conversation was done and I could go back inside now. My heart was still pounding in my chest and I knew this wasn’t going to end well for either of us. 

“Niall hit me,” he mumbled, still staring down at the ground. 

I huffed again, “Yeah. I know.” 

“He hit me four times.” 

“Yup.” 

“Four.” 

“I know!” I snapped. 

“And I-- I deserved it,” he said, dropping his arms from the back of his neck and looking up at me, his expression pathetic. 

“You’re bloody right you deserved it,” I said, still glaring at him. 

“Yeah, but, like… you kind of deserved it too.” 

“Oh, did I?” I laughed. “Please. Tell me why.” 

“Because,” he sighed, running his fingers through his hair again before wrapping his arms around his stomach. He looked back down to the ground and mumbled his next words so quietly I almost missed it. “Because it’s… it’s all or nothing with you.” 

“What?” 

He looked up, “It’s always… all or nothing.” He shrugged, “You can’t just… be my friend, Lou. I need you to just… be my friend and, like, give me time to… adjust. But _nooooo_.” He narrowed his eyes at me, “It’s either _be my boyfriend_ or… or be nothing at all!” He exclaimed, his words getting louder as he went on. “I’m not ready to be _anybody’s_ boyfriend. I-- I may _never_ be ready to be anybody’s boyfriend. But you won’t even be my _friend_ while I try and figure that out!” 

“Whatever,” I mumbled, looking away from him and down to the ground. 

“No! It’s not whatever!” he exclaimed. “You always have to have things _your_ way. I-- I hate that about you.” I looked up at him, my heart feeling like it stopped mid-beat, hurt washing over me as I took in his words. My lips parted to say something, to say anything, but nothing came out. He sighed, his eyes sad, and he quickly shook his head. “I-- I didn’t mean that. I don’t-- I don’t hate anything about you.” 

“Right,” I choked out, my eyes burning and my chest hurting, but I refused to fall apart in front of him. 

“I… I kinda hate that about you,” he whispered. “I… I _want_ to hate that about you.” 

“Are you-- are you quite finished, Harry?” I squeaked, looking up to meet his eyes again. 

He gulped, his sad eyes locked onto mine, and he finally shrugged. “I-- I guess so.” 

I nodded, taking a backwards step into my flat. He stepped forward, his arm outstretched as if he wanted to stop me. I blinked at him, my heart slamming against my ribcage again, scared to know what else he had to say to me. “I’m-- um, like, sorry for egging your hallway.” 

“It’s… whatever,” I said, shaking my head, taking another backwards step away from him. He opened his mouth and then closed it a few times in a row, clearly searching for something else to say. I was seconds away from breaking down and I knew it, I had to end this before he saw any emotion from me. 

“I’m-- I’m not gonna bother you again,” he whispered. 

“Okay,” I squeaked. 

“Ever.” 

“Okay,” I repeated, my voice cracking, my eyes desperately searching his. 

“Because it’s all or nothing,” he continued. 

I gulped, “Yeah.” 

“And-- and I choose nothing.” 

I want to die. 

I wanted to curl up into a ball, right here in the hallway, and die. 

He took a step back, shoving his hands inside his pockets, his eyes locked onto the floor in front of me. “I’m leaving now,” he muttered, but didn’t make any other move to walk away. I gulped again, my hands shaking as they held onto the egg covered door, trying to will myself to close it. I didn’t have anything left to say to him, so we just stood there in silence for a moment. He finally looked back up at me, his eyes rimmed red and his lip quivered once before he said, “Goodbye Louis.” 

“Bye, Harry…”

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiiiiiiiiii lovelys!!!! 
> 
> How is everybody's weekend going? I hope everyone is well!!! I came down with an AWFUL case of the flu and I've been pretty much dying the WHOLE week and so I will use that as a perfect excuse as to why this took me so long to write =) I really will never be able to get over how AWESOME you guys are and be able to really FULLY GRASP how much LOVE you guys show me! It's so amazing and really just makes me feel so awesome on the inside =) I really should start working on that love song for you guys, because these words just aren't cuttin' it anymore. 
> 
> **HUGE SHOUTOUT to this AMAZING group of people that made my terrible week SO MUCH BETTER: Hanni_Mikk, Centra0952, BeautifulPeopleLarry, Nemo5678, larryloving, Jaiver, mrjm, Teddy, lollycoops, London_Calls, Eden, Mandy, Yennsy, my polish-bestie Entice, Michelle, OneDirectionErections, larrystylinstrong, somarisz, LO_LA, my beautiful wife LouisLoves, ILoveLou (HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!) and 1DFan. I LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH. YOU REALLY DON'T KNOW HOW MUCH I LOVE YOU.**
> 
> Now, please excuse me while I shamelessly promote myself: I created a Twitter for My Cubicle Life where I can keep you guys updated on the status of every chapter _and also_ to give you sneak peaks from the chapter I'm currently writing. Since I can't update every day like I used to, I thought this would be the best way to keep you guys up to date =) So! Please follow that! @Fabby_1D 
> 
> End self-promotion.
> 
> LOVE YOU GUYS! I'll be updating again shortly!
> 
> BYYYYYYYE.


	27. Cock Blocked

It was day forty two in my Post-Harry Apocalypse. 

Forty two days. 

And in those forty two days, Harry had stayed true to his word. 

Ever since that night in the hallway, over a month ago, I hadn’t heard a single word from him. We hadn’t run into each other or texted each other at all in the past month. The first two weeks were the hardest, for sure, but I was forcing myself to get back to my old life. Harry was gone, and there was no chance of us ever getting back together, so I had no choice but to keep moving forward. 

But that didn’t stop the memories of him from crawling back at night. 

And I couldn’t help but wonder what he was doing every time I walked past his flat. 

I sighed quietly to myself, readjusting my briefcase on my shoulder as I fumbled for my keys. I had planned on staying at work late today, due to the fact I was behind on one of my projects, but by the time six rolled around (Only one hour after I normally leave.) I was already regretting my decision. I don’t know why I had thought I _suddenly_ had a good of a work ethic. 

Silly me. 

That’s how I found myself in this situation, at least. As soon as I opened the door, I heard the unmistakable sound of skin slapping against skin, and as soon as I walked around the corner I got a _very_ unpleasant view of Niall’s bare arse up in the air, absolutely _going to town_ on some poor girl. 

Right there on our couch. 

“Jesus Christ, Niall!” I exclaimed, quickly bringing my hands up to shield my eyes. 

“Ah, fuck!” he yelled. 

“Shit! Shit! Shit!” the girl said. 

I cringed. 

I blindly felt along the wall, my feet stumbling over each other, before I finally rounded the corner into the kitchen. Once I knew I was no longer going to be seeing a naked Niall, or a naked girl, I let my hands drop from my eyes and grimaced loudly to myself. I would never understand what he saw in… girls. I set my briefcase down on the island, pausing to listen to their hushed conversation. 

“I-I thought he was working late. Fuck it, it’s okay, let’s just go to my room.” 

“No! I’m so embarrassed!” 

“Don’t be! It ain’t nothing he’s never seen before!” 

“Niall!” 

“It’s _fine._ Come on, babe, let’s finish this in my room.” 

“No!” she hissed, “hand me my bra!” 

“Nooooooo,” he whined. 

“Niall!” 

“Come on, love, it’s okay.” 

“It’s _not_ okay. Now, hand me my bra!” 

I couldn’t help but chuckle, pushing off the countertop and opening the fridge to grab a beer. I twisted off the cap and flung it towards the open bin, disappointed in my free-throw skills when the cap bounced off the rim and landed on the floor next to it. I turned around, pausing before I exited the kitchen to call out, “Are you all, um, dressed…?” 

“Yeah, you fuckin’ cock blocker,” Niall snapped. 

I turned the corner, the beer bottle pressed to my lips but instantly stopped in my tracks when I realized that the girl he had been going to pound-town on was none other than Shauna. My eyes widened, the beer hovered against my opened mouth, blinking at them in shock. She looked down, avoiding my eyes, mumbling quietly, “Hi Louis.” 

“Um… hi,” I choked out. 

“I’m… leaving now,” she mumbled, her cheeks flushed as she grabbed up her shoes from the floor. I watched as she ran her hand through her disheveled hair once before pecking a quick kiss to Niall’s cheek. His hand lingered against her hip until she walked out of his range, his arm dropping back to his side as he turned to glare at me. 

Once the front door slammed shut, he not-so-subtly adjusted himself in his shorts and exclaimed, “Fuck you, mate!” 

“Sorry.” I shrugged, finally bringing the beer bottle back to my lips and taking a sip. 

“You were supposed to be working late!” he snarled, shoving around me and heading into the kitchen. I rolled my eyes, turning around and watching as he opened the fridge and grabbed a beer. He slammed the fridge door, turning around and glaring at me again. I watched as he twisted the cap off the bottle, and then I quickly ducked out of it’s path as he flung it towards me. 

I popped back up, narrowing my eyes at him as he did the same at me. “I thought our couch was a neutral zone,” I began. “You know, a _naughty-free_ zone.” 

“Piss off,” he groaned, adjusting himself in his shorts again before walking around me. I turned around again, following him with my eyes as he headed back towards the sex-couch. He angrily snatched up his shirt, setting his beer down on the coffee table for a moment as he pulled it on, then flopped down onto the [soiled forever] couch 

“How long has, um, _that_ been going on?” I asked, crossing one ankle over the other and leaning against the wall. He rolled his head to the side, glaring at me for another moment before pulling his hand up and flipping me off. I rolled my eyes, shouldering off the wall and heading further into the living room. “I didn’t even know you _knew_ her,” I continued, not ready to drop this subject yet. 

He shrugged, then took another sip from his beer. I blinked at him, now standing in front of him, not wanting to sit down on the couch just yet. He looked up at me, then rolled his eyes before saying, “I don’t know.” 

Silence. 

“Like… I don’t know, a little while,” he said, shrugging again as he avoided my eyes. 

“How long is a little while?” 

“Jesus, Lou, I don’t fucking know,” he snapped, getting up and quickly walking past me. I turned once again, following in his footsteps back towards the kitchen. I paused at the bar and set my beer down, then folded my arms across the bar and leaned my weight against it. I watched as he puttered around the kitchen, clearly trying to occupy himself to avoid the subject at hand. He opened the pantry, stared for a moment, then looked over his shoulder at me. _”What?”_

“I’m still waiting for an answer,” I said, my tone casual as I blinked at him. 

“Why does it matter?” he groaned, turning his head back around to continue to stare into the pantry. 

“Just curious.” 

Silence. 

“Well?” I pressed. 

He slammed the door and whipped back around, then gave off an annoyed shrug as he said, “Like-- a month? Two months?” 

My jaw dropped, “ _What?”_

“It doesn’t matter,” he said, shaking his head before taking the few steps towards the fridge. 

With my jaw still dropped, and my eyes following him as he opened the fridge door, I continued. “Two _months?_ Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?” 

“I’o know,” he mumbled, ducking his head into the fridge as he moved things around. 

“Niall.” 

“Mmm?” 

“ _Niall._ ” 

“For fucks sake, Lou!” he exclaimed, popping his head up and giving me an expectant look. “What?!” 

“Why-- I mean, how--” I stammered, not knowing what exactly I was supposed to say to that. How could this possibly have been going on for two months and yet this was the first time I was ever hearing of it? I tried to think back to the last two months, trying to think of anything not-Harry related that had happened, but it was hard to filter it out. 

I felt like Harry was _the only thing_ that had happened. 

I closed my mouth. 

“I just, like, I’o know. Didn’t want to tell you,” he said, shrugging again. “I wasn’t _keeping_ it from you--” 

“Yes you were!” 

_”No,”_ he corrected, “I wasn’t. I just, like-- fuck. I don’t know!” I watched as he scratched at his scalp with both hands for a moment before letting his arm drop. He looked around the kitchen for a moment, avoiding my eyes, before reaching forward and snatching up the bag of crisps from the counter. He pulled the bag open, dug his hand in, and then busied himself with eating them out of his palm. 

“So…” I began, clicking my tongue against the roof of my mouth in thought for a moment. He looked up at me, our eyes locked as he chewed, and I stared at him for a moment before continuing. “This… was going on when… Harry and I were still together?” 

He nodded. 

“And… does _he_ know?” 

He shrugged, then took another handful of crisps out of the bag. “I don’t give a fuck _what_ he knows.” 

“I-- I don’t get why you didn’t tell me,” I said, looking down at the bar. 

He sighed, “Lou, I… fuck. I didn’t want to upset you.” 

“But why didn’t you tell me before?” I asked, looking back up at him. “Like… back when things were still good with Harry.” 

He shrugged. 

“Niall,” I sighed. 

“I don’t know why I didn’t tell you then,” he said, shrugging again and then pausing to take another bite of crisps. “Like, it wasn’t anything back then. It was just, you know… fuckin’.” I narrowed my eyes at him. He grinned for a second before sighing once more, rolling the bag of crisps up and then tossing them back onto the counter. “Then everything with Harry and you happened and… it wasn’t a good time to tell ya.” 

“So you lied to me.” 

“No.” He rolled his eyes, “You never asked, so technically I din’ lie about nothin’.” 

“You lied to me!” I exclaimed. 

“No I didn’t!” he retorted. “Shit, Lou, just-- just fuckin’ drop it!” 

“No!” I yelled, anger washing over me when I realized he was keeping things from me. “I’m not gonna drop it! We’re supposed to be _best mates_! And yet you’ve had this secret-- secret girlfriend and you don’t even tell me--” 

“There wasn’t a good time to tell you!” 

“--We tell each other everything and yet--” 

“I do tell you everything!” 

“--You go and keep this _big fuckin’ secret_ from me!” 

“I was protecting you!” 

“What else aren’t you telling me?!” I exclaimed, throwing my hands up in the air. 

“Oh, for fucks sake, Louis!” he exclaimed. 

“Tell me!” 

“Nothing!” he yelled, throwing his hands up as well before angrily walking around the bar. I turned on my heels once again, storming after him into the living room. “Jesus, Lou! You’re over-fucking-reacting!” 

“No I’m not!” 

He stopped abruptly and whipped around, causing me to come to a quick halt in order not to run into him. He pointed at me, “Yes you are!” 

“No! I’m-- I’m fucking hurt that you’re keeping stuff from me!” I exclaimed, placing my hands on my hips. 

“I’m not keepin’ a goddamn thing from you.” Niall said, his tone stern as he glared at me, clearly annoyed with this situation. 

“Bollocks!” 

“Fuckin aye, I was trying to protect _your_ feelings!” he exclaimed, then threw his hands up in the air again before saying, “ _just like I always am._ ” 

“Fuck off.” I replied instantly, narrowing my eyes at him. “Don’t make yourself out to be a martyr.” 

“A _martyr?_ ” He laughed, though it wasn’t out of humor. “You’re fuckin’ kiddin’ me, right?” 

I blinked at him, my lips pulled together in a tight line. 

“I tap dance around _your_ fuckin’ feelings _all the time!”_ he yelled, gesturing his hands out to the side. 

“That’s bullshit!” 

“I’m going out.” He glared at me, “Alone.” 

“Fine!” I yelled, stepping out of his way when he went to step past me. I watched as he angrily grabbed his coat from the dining table and hastily pulled it on, shoving his feet into a pair of shoes that were laying by the door quickly afterwards. 

“I can’t fuckin’ handle you right now,” he mumbled. 

“Then don’t!” 

“I won’t!” he countered. “Let me know when you’ve chilled the fuck out!” 

“Fuck you,” I huffed. 

_Slam._

I breathed in deeply through my nose, bringing the bottle back up to my lips and taking a long sip of the beer. I couldn’t believe that Niall had kept this relationship from me; I knew I had overreacted a little, but I couldn’t help but feel betrayed. I told Niall _everything_ about my relationship, _and it’s demise_ , with Harry. And yet the whole time I was doing that, Niall was sneaking around behind my back with Shauna. 

I sighed to myself, setting the beer down on the coffee table before grabbing one of the throw blankets from the floor and shaking it out over the couch (I still wasn’t ready to sit in their filth.) and then sat down. I absentmindedly picked up the remote, flipping the telly on and then grabbing my beer from the coffee table.

 

* * *

I hadn’t moved much in the last few hours. 

I felt numb to the world. 

The only time I had gotten up at all was to change out of my work clothes and to get another beer. I was leaned far back into the couch, slumped far enough down that my bum hung off the edge, and I was staring blankly at the telly. I hated fighting with Niall, even when I was the one that instigated it, and I couldn’t help but wonder if he was coming home soon. 

Until then, I planned on ignoring the world. 

As if the world heard me, my phone began ringing loudly and I fixed my eyes on it, watching as it buzzed around the wooden table. I wondered for a moment who it was, knowing that it couldn’t be Niall (Since he had changed his ringtone in my phone to Mmbop by Hanson long ago.) and decided that I didn’t want to talk to whoever was calling. I picked up the remote and turned the volume up on the telly, drowning out the blaring phone until it went to voicemail. 

Only about thirty seconds went by before the phone was ringing again. 

Now irritated at whoever was insistently calling me, I hastily tossed the remote aside and reached forward to snatch up my phone. I glared at the screen, looking at the number that I didn’t recognized, and decided that whoever it was deserved an ear-full from me. I angrily swiped my thumb across the answer button, blowing a puff of air out of my lungs before saying in a rough tone, “Hello?” 

“Good evening, I’m calling for… Louis Tomlinson?” The female voice came through the speaker. 

“Yeah, this is him,” I huffed, leaning back into the couch cushions. 

“Hello, Mr. Tomlinson. My name is Juliette, I work at Mercy General Hospital--”

My heart stopped. 

“--I have you listed as an emergency contact for Mr. Niall Horan.” 

My ears started ringing, my eyes wide and my hands shaking as I tried to keep the phone up to my ear. 

“Um-- yea-- yeah? What happened?” I stammered, quickly leaning forward again. 

“I’m afraid there’s been a car accident, sir. Mr. Horan has sustained some pretty serious--” The nurse, or doctor or whoever, kept talking but the ringing in my ears became so loud I couldn’t hear what she was saying anymore. I felt like the walls were closing in on me, and that I was slowly fading out, my world suddenly seeming to come to a complete stop.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiiiiiiii guys! 
> 
> I'm SO, SO, SO sorry that it took this long for me to update! I wrote the majority of this chapter days ago but then I just had... so much trouble finishing it. Even now, it's REALLY short and I wanted it to be longer, but... I felt like the chapter needed to end there. Oh, speaking of that... don't be mad at me... =) It's all apart of the plan, guys! 
> 
> As always, I am COMPLETELY overwhelmed by the support I've gotten from you guys! And I'm SUPER HAPPY that SO MANY of you followed the Twitter account I created for this story! I love talking to you guys, and getting your feedback and... laughing with you! So I'm glad we have another way to communicate =) 
> 
> **SPEAKING OF AMAZING PEOPLE, HUUUUUUUUUUGE SHOUTOUT TO THESE FOLKS: somarisz, mrhomolicious, yennsey, centra0592, Eden, decadent, BeautifulPeopleLarry, shaymarie, Jaiver, iRaecandy, cissy_horan, LO_LA, 1DFan, hanni_mikk, ILoveLou, loubear, my partner in Tuna Fish related crimes Entice, niallersdirtymofo, BullCrapUnicorn, jacktheminiatureslayer and of course, my BEAUTIFUL wife LouisLoves. I LOVE ALL OF YOU SO MUCH.**
> 
> I've always been honest with you guys, haven't I? You all trust me, right? Well, I want to give you guys your... 5 chapter warning. This story has been slowly wrapping up and... there's about 5 chapters left before the end. I can't even imagine what I'm going to do with my life once this story ends and I'm going to IMMEDIATELY have separation-anxiety from all of you beautiful people. But I know that **I** personally hate when the ending of a story sneaks up on me... so... I wanted you all to be FAIRLY warned that there's only about 5 left. =) 
> 
> I LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH. 
> 
> EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU means the WORLD to me. Please always remember that. 
> 
> @Fabby_1D, for all of you who missed it =) 
> 
> I'll be updating again soon! BYYYYYYYE.


	28. Shattered

I felt like I was going to pass out. 

My world seemed like it was fading in and out, and even though I was sitting on the couch, phone pressed up tightly to my ear, I felt like I was going to fall over. I was vaguely aware that the woman from the hospital was still speaking, still telling me about Niall, but the ringing in my ears was so loud I couldn’t make out what she was saying. 

“Could-- could you repeat that?” I choked out. 

“His condition is pretty serious, Mr. Tomlinson. We recommend that you get down here as soon as possible.” 

“He-- he’s okay though, yeah? He’s okay? He’s fine?” I blurted out quickly. 

“Mr. Tomlinson, I think it would be best if we discussed this in person.” 

“Just tell me he’s okay!” I exclaimed, my voice showing how panicked I was. 

“He’s… stable. For now.” 

“Stable? What does that mean, stable?” 

“Mr. Tomlinson--”

“Okay, okay, okay,” I said, my words coming out quickly. “I’m-- I’m on my way right now!” I ripped the phone away from my ear and mashed the end call button a few more times than necessary. I jumped up from the couch, but as soon as I did I felt like the room was spinning and I had to quickly brace my hand out onto the coffee table to steady myself. 

I closed my eyes and forced myself to breathe, forced my world to stand still, and after swallowing the lump in the back of my throat I let my eyes open again. I took a second, just one second to compose myself, before I darted across the room. I forcefully shoved my feet into the closest pair of shoes, snatched up my keys up from the dining table and without a second thought I ran out of the flat. 

My feet pounded against the stairs, the realization that I was wearing shorts and a sleeveless shirt barely registering in my brain. If it wasn’t for the snow that began falling on my bare skin as I raced to my car, I doubt I would have realized at all. I fumbled to get my car unlocked, my hands shaking bad enough that I almost dropped my keys twice before jamming the key into the lock. 

Once the car was started, I took one more second to compose myself, telling myself that I had to calm down or I would crash my car too. As I pulled out of the parking space, jamming my foot down onto the accelerator, horrible images began flooding my mind as I thought about the state Niall might be in. 

Was he bleeding?

Was he _breathing?_

“Fuck.” I couldn’t help but mutter to myself, my breaths coming out shaky as I sped down street. “Fuck, fuck fuck.” I kept repeating the same word over and over. My chest was tight with anxiety, feeling like an elephant was sitting down on my sternum, and by now my arms and legs were both covered in goosebumps. I thought for a moment to look down and turn the heat on, but I was having enough trouble just paying attention as I weaved in between cars. 

When my car came to a stop, parked carelessly in between two spaces in the hospital parking lot, I suddenly realized that my whole journey here was a complete blur to me. As I shut the engine off, I was genuinely shocked that I made it without any incident, considering the last thing I remembered was speeding down my street. 

_Niall._

I forced the car door open, then groaned loudly as I realized I had forgotten the keys in the ignition and had to reach back in for them. I knew I was falling apart at the seams but I couldn’t keep myself together. I pushed the car door closed with a shaky hand before taking off in a jog towards the A&E entrance, snow still falling from the dark sky above me, even though it was well into March. 

_”Let me know when you’ve chilled the fuck out!”_

_“Fuck you.”_

The last words Niall and I had spoken to each other kept running through my mind over and over again, and everytime they replayed I felt that much closer to throwing up. I had that horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach that those could potentially be the last words I ever said to him, and the thought alone made bile rise in the back of my throat. 

I swallowed forcefully as I burst through the A&E doors, looking frantically from left to right as I tried to figure out where I was going. There were people waiting in chairs everywhere; babies crying, adults moaning in pain, and it seemed like they all turned to look at me at the same time. I blinked furiously, swallowing again as I forced my feet to move, heading towards the desk at the end of the room. 

“I’m-- I’m looking for Niall Horan?” I choked out towards the young blonde behind the desk. 

Without looking up from her computer, where she was furiously typing away, she muttered, “Have a seat.” 

“No.” I instantly replied, causing her to look up over her glasses at me. “I’m not gonna have a seat!” I said, my words coming out frantic. “Somebody called me and told me that he was in a car accident and that I had to--”

“Sir, you need to calm down,” she said, cutting me off. 

My jaw dropped, “Calm down?! I won’t calm down!” 

“Sir--”

“No! You listen to me!” I exclaimed, as the crying baby gave off an ear-piercing screech. 

“Take a seat, sir, and we’ll--” 

“No!” I slammed my hand down on the desk, “I’m not going _anywhere_ until you tell me where he is!” There was a moment directly after the words left my mouth where I thought she was going to call security; and I didn’t have to turn around to know that everyone was still staring at me. I guess there wasn’t much else to in a waiting room other than to watch somebody lose their mind at a defenseless clerk. 

“Okay.” She finally said, taking in a deep breath and adjusting the glasses on the bridge of her nose. She looked back up at me and then, in the most monotone voice I’d have ever heard, asked: “What was his name?” 

“Horan.” I said through clenched teeth, “H-o-r-a-n.” 

“And are you immediate family?” 

“Yes.” I responded without hesitation. 

“What is your relationship to the patient?” 

I blinked, “He’s my brother.” 

“Your name?” 

I was running out of patience. She was staring hard at her computer screen, her fingers typing at an abnormal speed as I answered all of her questions, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that she really wasn’t helping me at all. Finally responding to her question, my tone still dry and my teeth clenched hard together, I said, “Louis.” 

“Okay, Louis. I need you to go have a seat over there.” She finally looked up and pointed past me, “And the doctor’s going to come out in a few minutes and talk to you, okay?” 

I hated her. I hated her so much. I hated every flat-toned word that came out of her stupid mouth. I wanted to reach across the desk, grab her up by her obnoxious pink scrubs and _demand_ she take me to see Niall _now._ But I soon realized that the more I fought with her, the longer it was going to take. So instead of reaching across the desk for her throat, I forced myself to take a step back, my hands held up in a defensive manner. 

She forced out a smile, a smile I saw right through, before fixing her eyes back onto her computer. 

I forced myself to breathe as I slinked down into a chair next to a coughing man, bringing my fists together in my lap and fidgeting my shaking hands together. I’m glad I’m in a hospital, because I’m bound to pass out at any moment now. I reached into the pocket of my shorts and grabbed my phone, bringing it out and swiping it unlocked. 

With a shaking thumb, I scrolled through the contacts of my phone until I got to Niall’s mum. I had to call her, didn’t I? The hospital wouldn’t have called both of us; she must not even know he’s in the hospital. As I went to press the call button, my thumb froze. What was I supposed to tell her? I didn’t know anything myself. 

I swallowed the lump in the back of my throat, numbly blinking down at the call button, imagining the panic that would happen and I wouldn’t even be able to comfort her. Before I had time to debate it anymore, I heard someone say over the crying baby, “Louis Horan?” I immediately stood up, slipping my phone back into my pocket and meeting the doctor halfway. 

“Yes,” I said, and couldn’t stop the thought of _I can’t wait to tell Niall that one!_ from running through my brain. When my thoughts caught up with me, realizing that maybe I would never be able to tell Niall about it, I felt like my heart sank even further down into my core. 

“Hello, Mr. Horan I’m doctor--” 

“Louis,” I corrected. “Call me Louis.” 

She smiled, “Louis. I’m Doctor Carrigan; I was the treating physician when Niall was brought in. Did you want to have a seat to discuss his condition, or…?” 

“No.” I shook my head, forcefully swallowing again. “I-- I just want… to know. How he is. I want to know how he is,” I stammered. My heart was pounding in my chest and my legs felt like jelly; maybe we should sit down afterall. She smiled sweetly at me, and as if reading my mind, she ushered me over to a set of chairs that was away from the crowd of people. I reached out a shaking hand towards the wooden chair before sitting, wrapping my arms low around my stomach as I waited for her to continue. 

“Niall was brought in because of a serious automobile accident,” she began. “He sustained many injuries during the crash, the worst of which being a break to his left Tibia, but he has many cuts and scrapes over his body from sliding against the pavement-- are you with me so far, Louis?” 

I wasn’t sure if I was breathing. 

“Ye-- yes.” 

“Your brother is very lucky to be alive, Louis,” she said, her eyes unmoving from mine. “When we were treating him, his heart started beating dangerously fast so we had to give him some medicine to slow his heart rate down,” she continued, but the ringing in my ears returned and I had to focus on the words coming out of her mouth. “There are many risks involved with that though and now his heart is throwing PVCs, do you know what this?” 

“I-- no-- no I don’t,” I choked out. 

“Premature ventricular contractions,” she clarified. “Basically, his heart isn’t beating in a steady rhythm, and he’s having beats in rapid succession. One will come too soon before the next, causing an unsteady rhythm. We call them PVCs.” I opened my mouth to say something, to say anything, but nothing came out. “Do you understand what that means?” 

“No!” I cried. 

“It means that your brother is in serious risk of a heart attack right now, Louis.” 

“Oh my god,” I muttered, my hands coming up to cover my mouth. 

She gave me a sympathetic smile, “We had to take him up to surgery to repair the broken bone in his leg.” She continued before I even had a moment to process what she was saying. “He’s under general anesthesia right now while they repair the bone, but I can assure you they are monitoring his heart _very_ closely throughout his surgery.” 

“So-- so you’re saying that he’s… that he’s going to have a heart attack?” 

She smiled that same sympathetic smile, then reached out and placed a comforting hand on my shoulder. “I’m saying it’s a possibility.”

“Fuck me,” I said, letting my head drop into my hands and gripping fistfulls of my hair. I felt like my world was spinning again, spinning completely out of control, and I knew I was seconds away from losing it at this point. I squeezed my eyes shut tightly and I was semi-aware of the comforting hand still placed on my shoulder. 

“Are your parents close by, sweetie?” 

“How long is he going to be in surgery?” I asked, completely ignoring her question as I lifted my head up. 

“A few hours, maybe,” she said, shrugging softly. “I can take you up to the operating waiting room, if you’d like?” 

I slowly nodded, and then followed suit when she stood up. She began to walk away, to guide me to whatever waiting room she was taking me to now, but I couldn’t get my feet to move. Sensing that I was no longer with her, she turned and looked over her shoulder. “He’s… he’s going to be okay, right?” I asked, barely above a whisper, my tone revealing how close to breaking down I was. 

“He’s very lucky.” 

“But he’s going to be okay?” 

“He has the best doctors operating on him right now.” 

“Why won’t you answer me?” I blurted out. “Tell me he’s going to be okay!” 

“Louis,” she said, giving me that fucking smile again. “I promise the second I know something I’ll tell you, okay?” I bit down on my bottom lip hard, forcing myself to nod even though I didn’t like her answer. It scared me that she wouldn’t answer my question, wouldn’t tell me that Niall was going to be okay, and the entire trip up to the ninth floor was spent in silence. We had nothing left to say to each other. 

I had somehow ended up in a chair, but I didn’t remember sitting down. 

This waiting room was much smaller than the general A&E waiting room had been, filled with only about fifteen chairs and there was a flatscreen television mounted to one of the walls. I blinked numbly at it, the images never making it to my brain because all I could think about is the fight we had gotten into earlier. 

Why had I say such awful things to him? 

Why did I overreact the way I did? 

Why was I always so fucking _dramatic_ about everything? 

If I hadn’t acted the way I had, we would probably be sitting on the couch right now, half-pissed and watching Friends reruns. Everything would be fine, and he would have spent hours telling me disgusting details about Shauna that I didn’t need to know. I would have made some half-funny comment about walking in and seeing his pale bum up in the air. 

And everything would be fine. 

_He_ would be fine. 

I let my eyes close as I took in a shaky breath, trying to will back the tears that had wanted to fall since I had gotten the call. None of this was right; this shouldn’t be happening. I opened my eyes back up and looked around the empty room, suddenly feeling more alone than I had in a long time. I felt like I was the last person on earth and the thought sobered me. 

I needed something. 

I needed some _one._

I couldn’t do this alone. 

Before I could talk myself out of it, or even fully comprehend what I was doing, I was pressing on Harry’s number in my phone and bringing the iPhone up to my ear. I chewed on my bottom lip, listening as it rang over and over again in my ear, and when it went to voicemail I felt like the last little piece of me fell apart. I tried to bring the phone away from my ear, but just listening to his voice on his message seemed to comfort me in a way. Before I knew what was happening, the phone beeped and I soon realized my message was being recorded. 

Shit. 

“Hi…” I mumbled into the phone, realizing that regardless of whether or not I actually said anything he would still receive the notification; he would know I tried to call him. “It’s me.” As soon as the words left my mouth, I felt the need to clarify. “Um, it’s… Louis.” I was aware of how shaky my voice was and I almost didn’t recognize it.

“Niall was… he was in a car accident and-- and we’re at the hospital and… and I don’t know what to do.” My voice cracked and I cleared my throat, biting down on my bottom lip for a second before continuing. “He’s… he’s in surgery and his heart isn’t beating right and I’m--” My voice cracked again and the realization of what I was doing, _who_ I was calling, suddenly slapped me in the face. 

I can’t be calling Harry; I have no right to being calling him.

He wasn’t my boyfriend. 

He wasn’t my _friend._

“Oh god, I’m sorry. I-- I shouldn’t have called you. I’m so sorry. Nevermind. Just-- nevermind.” I ripped the phone away from my ear and quickly pressed the end call button, staring at the phone with a dropped jaw afterwards. 

“Fuck,” I mumbled, “I’m so fucking stupid.” 

I let my head drop back to my hands, my cheeks heated with embarrassment from what I had just done. 

I was fucking pathetic. 

I hadn’t spoken to Harry in weeks. I hadn’t been tempted to call him or contact him in _any_ way, and suddenly I was leaving him voicemails? I’m so fucking stupid. “Stupid, stupid, stupid,” I whispered, bashing my phone against my forehead repeatedly. I had that overwhelming feeling that the walls were closing in on me again and I tugged at the neck of my shirt, feeling as though it was suffocating me, even though the neckline was down to my collarbones. 

What if Niall was having a heart attack right now? 

He could be laying on that operating table _dying_ and I wouldn’t even know. 

I wasn’t strong enough for this. 

Niall was the strong one. 

Niall was the one that could always thinks clearly in these kinds of situations; Niall was always the one I would _go to_ when I felt like this. He would sit me down, force to breathe and then crack a joke to distract me from everything. He would throw his arm around my shoulders and pull me hard into his side, scratching at my scalp with his blunt fingernails and mumbling something like, “You know worrying gives you wrinkles, princess.” 

I _can’t_ do this. 

I jumped out of my chair and made the three steps towards the lift. I began mashing the the down arrow on the lift, needing to get out of this hospital as quick as possible. I just couldn’t do it. My throat felt like it was closing and I couldn’t remember the last time I was able to take a deep breath in. My hands were shaking still, even as I continued to jam the down arrow button in, and I felt like every muscle in my body was going haywire. 

The doors finally opened to reveal a full lift. I knew, even in my meltdown, the polite thing to do would be to wait for the next one; but I still found myself squeezing into the tight space regardless. I could feel everybody judging me, everybody wishing I had waited for the next one, but I forced myself to tune them out as I watched the numbers descend down to the lobby. 

I was the first one out and I took off in a run towards the exit. 

When I finally made it out into the cold air, I came to an abrupt stop and leaned forward, resting my hands on the tops of my thighs as I tried to catch my breath. There was still snow falling around me, and I was dressed more appropriately for the gym then the winter weather, but at this point I didn’t care if I froze to death or not. I stood up, numbly looking around me and headed towards the stone half-wall that was off to the side of the entrance. 

My toms covered feet slipped around in the snow but I finally made contact with the wall, turning around and hoisting myself up onto it. I could feel the coldness set into my bum immediately and I knew it would only be a few seconds before it was completely numb. I let my head fall back down into my hands, trying to focus on breathing in and out and doing everything I could not to break down and cry. 

With my eyes squeezed shut, all I could see was the scene that had taken place back at our flat; the same fight I had played over and over in my mind since I had arrived at the hospital. I couldn’t get Niall’s face out of my mind, the expression he wore when he had said, _“I was trying to protect your feelings! Just like I always am!”_ and how his face had dropped when my response was, _“fuck off.”_

I’m a horrible, _horrible_ person. 

I should be the one in that operating room. 

Not him. 

Why wasn’t it me?

I squeezed my eyes shut even tighter, my elbows digging into my thighs as my forehead dug into the heels of my hands. I don’t know how long I sat there for, and the noises around me of ambulances and rushing people had seemed to all blend together, but there was one sound that I could never mistake; the voice that I could recognize over a million others. “Louis?” 

My head shot up, my arms hovered in front of my chest, and as he stepped underneath the light of the streetlamp, I felt like my heart shattered into a million pieces. “Harry?”

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiiiiiiiiii everybody! 
> 
> Another heartbreaking chapter, eh? Poor Niall =( 
> 
> You guys are SO AMAZING and left me such amazing comments on the last chapter. Your support throughout this story has been _overwhelming_ and I really don't think I'll ever be able to get over it. I love that you all have _opinions_ and _true feedback_ for me! I love your ideas, your input, your take on what's happening... EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU! I just love it =) 
> 
> **Speaking of AWESOMENESS, huge shoutout to these fine people: Crystal, loubear, BeautifulPeopleLarry, GaaneGinger, iRaecandy, mrhomolicious, Eden, 1DFan, my wonderful wifey LouisLoves, Yennsy, jacktheminiatureslayer, ILoveLou, LO_LA, BullCrapUnicorn and my gorgeous Polish bestie Entice, who commented offline. I LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH.**
> 
> I'm so excited to write the next few chapters... I feel like it's been _so_ long since Harry's been apart of this =) Can't wait for you guys to read it! 
> 
> See you all soon! Byyyyyeeeeee!


	29. Beside You

I watched as Harry stepped closer to me, my heart feeling like it stopped altogether, my jaw hung open as I stared at him. I couldn’t believe he was here. His curls were sticking out obscenely from underneath a grey beanie, his eyes puffy with dark circles around them; he had baggy black trackies hanging from his hips and an oversized jumper covering his torso. 

He looked a right mess.

But to me he had never looked more perfect. 

I could practically feel my heart start beating again, inhaling a shaky breath through my lips as my senses returned to me. I instantly jumped off the wall, stumbling forward a bit before balancing myself. I parted my lips to say something, but once I did no words came out. I crossed my arms over my chest, my skin like ice as I clutched my arms to my front. 

Our eyes locked as he came to a stop in front of me. 

“I’m-- I’m so sorry,” I choked out. “I-- I shouldn’t have called you. And-- and you _came here_ , oh god.” I groaned loudly, bringing my hands up to cover my face as I scrubbed at my cheeks. I was completely embarrassed that I had called him, no matter how happy and relieved I was now that he was here. I let my arms drop back down to my side, looking back up at him and letting a lung puff of air leave my lungs. 

He was frowning at me. 

“I--” I began, but he cut me off. 

“Where’s your coat?” 

“My what? Oh-- _oh,”_ I said, swallowing harshly before I continued. “I-- It’s at home. I forgot it.” 

He frowned again. 

Silence. 

The silence only lasted a few seconds, but to me it felt like a lifetime. I was _very_ aware that this was the first time we had seen each other in weeks, and I’m sure he was too. I was such a _twat_ for calling him. I parted my lips to say just that, to remind him of my twaty ways, but before I could say anything he spoke up. 

“I came as soon as I got your voicemail…” 

“God, I’m so sorry,” I blurted out, tearing my eyes away from him and looking down to the ground. “I had absolutely no right to call you! I-- It was a moment of weakness, Harry, I swear. I-- I didn’t mean to! I just-- I was up there.” I nodded my head towards the hospital, “And I was all by myself and I-- I didn’t know what to do or who to call or--”

“Louis!” 

I flinched, snapping my jaw shut as I whipped my head back over to him. 

“It’s okay,” he said, his eyes piercing into mine. “Really.” 

I felt like my heart was breaking again. 

Why couldn’t he just be an ass to me? 

He moved to step forward and for a moment I thought he was going to hug me, but he quickly thought better of it and brought his hands up to the back of his neck instead, his elbows boxing in his face as he looked down at the ground. I took another shaky breath in, trying to will my heartrate down as I stared at him, unable to take my eyes away from him now that he was _here._

“How’s, um, Niall?” he asked, his tone hoarse and his eyes still avoiding mine.

I swallowed, “He’s in surgery.” Harry looked up when the words left my mouth, a concerned expression across his face as he let his arms drop back down to his sides. “It’s… it’s pretty bad. We-- we were fighting and he-- he said to leave him alone and-- and-- and--” I stammered, my jaw trembling as all my emotions hit me at once. This was the first time I was saying these words aloud and it hurt worse than I expected. “And I said such horrible, _horrible_ things to him before he left and I’m-- I’m sure he--he hates me.” 

My voice cracked on the last word and I forced myself to take another shaky breath in. Harry continued to frown at me as I tried to finish telling him what happened. “I was-- I was such a dick to him, Harry, and for _no_ reason! And the last words I said to him before he left was-- was-- was-- oh, they were _awful_ , and I-- I--” 

Suddenly Harry lunged forward and wrapped his arms around me, causing a sob to escape from my lungs. My whole body shook as he wrapped his arms tighter around my back, his face turned away from me and pressed against my shoulder. Another sob escaped my lungs, my arms hung loosely by my sides, but this only made Harry grip me tighter. I forced my shaking hands to lift from my sides and I gripped the back of his jumper tightly between my fists, tears finally spilling over my eyes as I pulled him closer to me. 

I smashed my face into the space between his cheek and his shoulder, sobbing openly into his neck as he tightened his grip on me even more. I felt one of his hands snake up my back and his fingers threaded through my hair, holding my head in place as I cried harder. I felt like the floodgates had been opened and now that I was crying I would never stop. My whole body continued to shake as I sobbed, Harry’s skin like fire against my cheek, and I could faintly hear him murmuring comforting words into my ear. 

Harry’s hands ran down my shoulders and onto the exposed skin of my biceps, his fingers gripping my arms tightly as I continued to cry against him. My grip on his jumper was still tight and I refused to let go yet. I was completely heart broken; terrified that the only person who was always there for me was going to die.

And now I was being comforted by Harry Styles, of all people. 

This had to be one of the lowest moments of my life. 

“It’s my fault,” I cried, my words muffled into his neck. “It’s all my fault.” 

“Shh,” Harry hushed, carding his fingers through my hair. “It’s not your fault.” 

“It _is._ ” 

“He’s going to be okay,” he cooed, his words coming out across my ear causing a shiver to rake through my body. I clutched his jumper harder, wrapping my arms tighter around him as I continued to cry. 

It was only when an embarrassing snot-bubble escaped my nose and went directly onto Harry’s neck that I suddenly pulled away; the whole scene that was playing out finally clicking in my brain. I went to step away from him, but his hands stayed gripped onto my biceps. I was panting, my jaw still trembling, and I blinked furiously to try to clear my clouded vision. “Oh god,” I said, reaching forward and wiping at Harry’s neck with my palm. 

“It’s fine,” he said, tilting his head away from me, his hands still gripping the tops of my biceps. “Lou-- Louis it’s fine,” he said, but I was still horrified. I wiped my palm off against my shorts before attempting to go back and clean the rest of my snot and tears off, but he let go of my arm with one of his hands to swat me away. Looking my dead in the eyes, he said, “It’s _fine._ ”

I squeezed my eyes shut, another tear spilling over as I did so, dropping my chin to my chest as shame washed over me. I was a fucking mess. He ran his hands up and down my bare arms, causing another shiver to surge through my body. I opened my eyes up, looking up at him with my blurry vision, biting down on my lip harshly as I stared at him. 

He seemed to swallow the lump in his throat before choking out, “You’re-- you’re shivering.” 

“I--” 

“God, you must be fucking freezing,” he said, quickly taking a step back from me. I watched as he reached behind him and grabbed onto the hood of his jumper, quickly tugging it over his head to reveal his white v-neck. “Here, put-- put this on,” he said, bunching up the jumper to slip it over me. 

“No-- Harry-- I--” 

“Please,” he said, his voice cracking as he looked at me with sad eyes. “Please take it.”

I attempted to protest again, but my teeth were chattering so hard that the words wouldn’t come out. Without waiting for my consent, he stepped back into my space and tugged the jumper over my head, urging me to slip my arms inside before pulling it down the rest of the way. 

I officially had no dignity left. 

I took a deep breath in, overwhelmed by the sudden warmth that surrounded my torso, staring pathetically up into his eyes. He stared back at me, frowning deeply at me, neither one of us knowing what to say. I snuffled loudly, suddenly realizing how wet my cheeks were with tears. He seemed to notice it at the same time and reached his hand forward in an attempt to wipe them away.

Finding what little self-respect I had left in me, I turned my head out of his reach and brought my own palms up to scrub at my cheeks. He let his hand fall back and then crossed his arms in front of his chest, clutching them tightly to himself as a gust of wind blew past us. I snuffled again, pulling the sleeves of Harry’s jumper down around my freezing fingers, pulling my shoulders in tighter to bring the hood up around my ears. 

I forgot what it was like to be warm. 

“I’m so embarrassed,” I whispered, looking away from him again. 

“Louis you… you have nothing to be embarrassed of.” 

“I’m a fucking disaster,” I squeaked, and I could tell that my cheeks were red, even though they were still freezing. 

“You have every right to be,” he whispered. I looked up at him, my lip quivering and more tears threatening to spill over; I couldn’t handle how nice he was being to me. Especially after all we had been through. Our last few encounters had been so awful and we had exchanged such horrible words at each other. But now, standing outside in the freezing cold, it felt like no time had passed at all. 

He was here. 

He was here when I needed him the most. 

That didn’t stop the shame I felt in this situation though. 

“Come on,” he whispered, “Let’s go inside. You’re-- you’re gonna catch a cold.” 

“I’m--”

“Come on.” He cut me off, turning me around with his hands on my shoulders and urging me to move towards the entrance of the hospital. I let him lead me, his hand pressed against the small of my back, and we didn’t say anything until we got back to the lift. 

I turned to look at him, my mouth opening and closing a few times before the words finally left, “You-- you don’t have to come back up with me. You shouldn’t have come to begin with, and I mean, I’ll-- I’ll be fine--” I rambled, my words coming out quickly as I stared at him. He held my eye contact for another moment before reaching around me to press the up arrow on the lift. 

I let my eyes close, another long puff of air slowly leaving my lungs. 

I wrapped my arms around myself when we stepped inside the lift, my body still shivering from how long I had been outside in the freezing cold, the warmth of Harry’s jumper only taking the chill off my skin. My feet were frozen solid at this point, my shoes not being made for the snow, and the exposed portion of my legs were both numb. 

“You’re still cold,” Harry muttered, causing me to look over at him. He was frowning at me again. I opened my mouth to say something, to tell him that I was fine, but I couldn’t bring myself to say it. So instead, as we reached the ninth floor, I shrugged sadly at him. He seemed to think about for a second before saying, “You, um, go on ahead and… I’ll go down to the cafeteria and get tea.” 

“You don’t have to--”

“Please,” he whispered. “Just… just go on ahead.” 

I bit my lip before nodding, stepping out and slowly heading back towards the waiting room. I snuffled loudly, bringing my jumper covered hand up to wipe at my nose, making my way into the waiting room and slinking down into one of the chairs. I pulled my legs up onto the chair with me, wrapping my arms around them and resting my chin against my knee. 

I felt completely helpless. 

I sat there for about ten minutes, staring numbly at the chairs across from me, trying to wrap my brain around what all just happened. Harry found his way into the waiting room just then, two steaming cups held in his hands, and when he spotted me sitting in the corner he made his way over to me. 

“I-- I realized that I don’t know how you take your tea,” he began, handing me one of the cups. “So I, um, got you some sugar packets,” he said, reaching into the pockets of his trackies and removing the sugars. “And um, they had these dodgy little milks but… they looked like they had been sitting out for a while, and like, that’ll make you sick.” He continued to ramble, his words coming out mumbly as he pressed the sugar packets into my open palm. “So if you, like, need milk for it I can, um, go try and find some real milk?” 

“It’s okay,” I said, swallowing harshly and forcing a small smile onto my face. “This is fine, thank you.” 

“Okay,” he said, his tone quiet as he sunk down into the chair next to me. I watched as he stared down at his coffee cup for a few long moments before finally bringing it to his lips and taking a small sip out of it. He must have sensed my eyes on him because he looked over, our eyes connecting and we held it for a moment. “What?” he asked, his tone soft and barely above a whisper. 

“Nothing,” I replied quickly, shaking my head and forcing myself to look away. I held the styrofoam cup of tea with both hands, relishing in the warmth that was coming off of it, blinking down at the tea as I could still feel Harry’s eyes on me. I took a deep breath in through my nose before bringing the tea up to my lips and taking a small sip, the hot liquid burning my throat as I swallowed it. I spared a glance over at Harry afterwards only to find that he was still staring at me. 

“I… um…” he stammered, his eyes searching mine. He closed his mouth, breathing out slowly through his nose, unable to find the words either. I swallowed harshly, not breaking our eye contact, wishing that I had something to say too. “Louis, I…” 

“Thank you for coming,” I whispered. 

He sighed. 

“No, Harry, really,” I said, my voice coming out small. “I-- I don’t know _why_ you did, but…” I trailed off, forcing my eyes away from him when I felt like it was all getting too intense. I looked back down at my hands, at the tea he had brought me, suddenly feeling like I was going to burst into tears again. Silence fell over us for a few moments after that as I blinked my tears back, not wanting to cry anymore than I already had; not wanting to make him any more uncomfortable than I’m sure he already was. 

When he spoke up again, I startled a bit, not expecting him to say anything else. 

“When you called, I, um…” he paused, and when I looked over he was staring down at his hands. “I didn’t pick up because, like…” 

“I know,” I whispered. 

“But as soon as I listened to your voicemail I just, like, jumped up and drove down here.” 

I gulped. 

“I-- I didn’t really think about it,” he said, picking at the rim of the cup. “Like, there was nothing to…” he sighed, bringing one hand up and tugging the beanie off his head. He let it fall to his lap before he ran his fingers through his hair. “Louis, I-- I’ll always, like, be there… if you, you know, need… anything… or… something.” His words were coming out painfully slow and he was clearly having problems pulling all of his thoughts together. 

My heart felt like it was shattering all over again. 

I didn’t deserve to be treated this nicely right now. 

“Like, I don’t want you to feel like… you shouldn’t have called me.” 

“But I shouldn’t have,” I whispered, looking away from him and back down to the floor. 

There was silence between us for a moment before he spoke up again. 

“I left you alone because… I said I would,” he whispered, staring hard at his coffee cup. “Because I thought that’s what you wanted,” he added. My breath caught in my throat as I took in his words, not knowing how to respond to that. “I-- I just want you to know that I…” He sighed again, running his hand back through his hair as he fumbled over his words. “I don’t mind being here.” 

I gulped again. 

“Thanks,” I whispered. 

He nodded, biting down on his lip. He looked back over at me, his elbows resting on his knees and he was leaned far over, and when our eyes locked I couldn’t help the way my heart fluttered just a bit. It was all too surreal. I hadn’t seen Harry in so long and now he was _so close_. He looked back down to his hands, where he was fidgeting with his paper cup, before saying, “He’ll be okay.” 

“I hope so.” 

“He has to be,” he whispered. 

I bit down on my lip, sniffling again as my throat constricted. We sat in silence for another moment, the television on the wall was muted and the room was closed off, causing there to be a deafening silence whenever we weren’t talking. “What if he’s not?” I mumbled, letting my knees fall to the side against the arms of the chair. 

Harry didn’t answer. 

“I don’t know what I’ll do,” I muttered, chewing on the inside of my cheek afterwards. “He’s-- he’s my whole life, you know?” I asked, my tone barely above a whisper. I could see Harry staring at me out of the corner of my eye, but I kept my eyes fixated on the tea that I had barely sipped. “He’s the only person that… stays.” 

Harry winced. 

“I-- I didn’t mean that as a dig at you,” I said, looking over at him. “Really.” 

He nodded. 

“I’m just saying that, like… he’s the only _constant_ person in my life, you know?” I breathed in deeply through my nose and held it in for as long as I could, trying to bring myself back down to earth. “I-- I just don’t know what I’ll do.” 

“Don’t think like that, Lou.” 

_Lou._

I squeezed my eyes shut, letting my chin fall back down to my chest as his words repeated in my head. Harry sighed and I heard him set his cup down on the table in front of us. I could feel him shifting around in the chair next to me and I flinched when I felt his palm rest on my knee. I instantly flicked my eyes open, fixing my gaze on where he was resting his hand on my knee, then switched over to look at his eyes. 

He slowly pulled his hand back, probably thinking that he had crossed some unspoken line, and he sighed quietly again before looking back down at his lap. He had shifted in his chair so that one of his legs was curled up into the chair with him, his body turned and angled towards me. Even though he had already retracted his hand, I could still feel his touch on my knee and I realized I was still staring at him. 

I took a shaky breath in, forcing my eyes away from him and stared at the muted telly across from us. I swallowed roughly, my throat still feeling constricted, and tried hard to focus on the images displayed on the telly. I could feel Harry’s eyes on me again; I knew he was staring at me but I was too scared to look back over. “Lou,” he whispered. 

I shook my head, refusing to look back over at him. 

“Louis,” he repeated, his tone still low. “Look at me,” he whispered. I gulped, breathing in through my nose once before finally turning my head back towards him. Our eyes locked and we held it for a moment; I didn’t know what he was about to say but I was scared to hear it. I could feel the tension around us, the unspoken boundaries that we had set, and him sitting this close to me was breaking all of them. 

“Lou, I’m… really sorry for everything that happened,” he whispered. My breath caught in my throat. “I’m… I’m sorry for what you heard that day,” he continued, his eyes locked on mine, a sincere expression across his face. “I’m-- I’m sorry that I _said_ it, I mean. I shouldn’t have said it.” 

I wasn’t breathing. 

“I don’t know why I said.” He shook his head, his eyes finally averting from mine and looking back down at his lap. I gripped the tea cup in my hand tight, trying to get my hands to stop shaking as I took in his words. His words felt like they were punching me in the gut, making me feel even worse than I already was, and I parted my lips to tell him to stop but nothing came out. “I don’t know why I felt that way. I-- I was just overwhelmed and you were everything to me and I--”

“Harry,” I choked out, causing him to look back up at me. “Let’s… not talk about this right now,” I said, my voice trembling and a shaky breath escaped my lungs afterwards. He held my gaze for another moment, his eyes sad and I could tell he wanted to say something else, but after another moment he slowly nodded. 

“Okay,” he said, looking back down to his lap. “Yeah, okay. Sorry.” 

“I just…” I said, but soon paused as I tried to collect my thoughts. He looked back up at me, a deep frown spread across his features; it broke my heart. “I… I can’t talk about this right now,” I whispered. “Not with… everything that’s going on, you know? 

“I understand,” he whispered. 

Silence. 

We held each others gaze for another few moments, the room so silent you could hear a pin drop. My heart was pounding in my ears and the need to throw up was suddenly returning to me. The moment felt too intense again, too _real_ , but I couldn’t force myself to look away. “I… I don’t know if I’ll _ever_ be ready to talk about it,” I whispered. 

He frowned deeper, letting his eyes drift back down to his lap as he let his head drop. 

I didn’t know how much more my heart could physically take.

“Okay,” he whispered. “I deserve that.” 

“No,” I said instantly, “It’s-- it’s not that, Harry.” I watched as he kept his gaze fixated on his lap, his fingers picking at one of this nails nervously, his face angled away from me. “Harry.” I sighed, letting my legs slink back to the floor as I leaned forward to set my tea cup down. I twisted in my seat as well, mirroring the position that he was sitting in. I hesitantly reached out and touched his arm. 

He flinched underneath my touch and I watched as his eyes stared down at my fingers. 

I waited until he looked up at me before I continued. “It just hurts too bad,” I whispered. “Talking about it, I mean. It’s-- it’s not _you_ , it’s just… the… situation.” 

He bit his lip, then nodded softly. 

I was very aware of how much I _sucked_ at forming words. 

I parted my lips to say something, to tell him how much I missed him and would probably _always_ miss him, but before the words could leave my mouth the door to the waiting room opened. We both turned our heads at once, looking at the nurse who had opened the door. “Are you here for Niall Horan?” 

I instantly stood up, “Ye-- yes.” 

She smiled at me, her hip holding the door open and a clipboard held in her left arm. “He’s out of surgery; did you want to see him?” I felt like my heart stopped again, the urge to fall to the ground and cry suddenly washing over me. I didn’t know if it was out relief, or fear from not knowing how the surgery went, but I forced myself to nod as I took a step forward.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiii my beautiful readers! 
> 
> What did everyone think of this chapter?! I missed writing Harry SO MUCH, even though it had only been a few chapters, so I definitely enjoyed writing this =) EVEN THOUGH it was all super emotional and dark, I still loved writing it. So... I hope you enjoyed reading it =) I love you all SO MUCH and I'm so sad that this story is almost over. I've _accepted_ that this story is coming to an end, but I can't imagine my life without you guys! That's what I'm going to miss the most! I'm going to continue writing after this story, and I've been working on a few ideas, so hopefully I can start the next story pretty soon so that I don't have to live without you all =) 
> 
> **Speaking of amazing people, HUGE SHOUT OUT to these beautiful mofos: Nemo5678, BeautifulPeopleLarry, Eden, 1dDreamLove, Sherivw, London_Calls, decadent, loubear, 1DFan, natalia, jacktheminiatureslayer, Mackenzie, Yennsy, iRaecandy, LO_LA, ILoveLou, Ted and my baby-boo Entice who still gets a shoutout, even though she hasn't been commenting =) I LOVE YOU ALL TO THE MOON AND BACK.**
> 
> The song that was on repeat while writing this chapter was Beside You and you should go listen to it. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GJ0z1LH6RJc
> 
> I'm excited to write the next chapter =) Hopefully I can update again VERY soon so that I don't have to keep you waiting very long! 
> 
> Love you all! 
> 
> BYYYYYYEEEE.


	30. Sirens

“He’s out of surgery; did you want to see him?” 

I blinked at the nurse a few times, trying to get a hold of all my emotions to take a step forward. I wanted nothing more than to run to Niall, but I hesitated out of fear. I didn’t know how he was doing, or what had happened during his surgery, and then there was our fight right before he had left the flat; the last words I said to him. I took a deep breath in, forcing myself to nod as I took a step towards her, where she was holding the door open for me. 

I quickly stopped, looking over my shoulder at Harry who was sitting on the edge of his seat, a worried expression across his face. “Um,” I said, looking back to the nurse, pointing a thumb over my shoulder at Harry. “Can he…?” 

“Only one at a time right now, sweetie,” she said. 

I took another shaky breath in before looking back over at Harry. 

“Go on,” he urged, nodding at me. 

I turned back to the nurse, “One second,” I said, holding up my pointer finger at her. I quickly turned and took the few steps towards Harry, who stood when he realized I was coming back over to him. Before I could talk myself out of it, or tell myself it wasn’t a good idea, I wrapped my arms around him in a tight hug. It took him a second to respond, his arms snaking around my back and pulling me closer to him. It only lasted a second before I pulled away, my arms trailing on the tops of his biceps as I looked him in the eyes. “ _Thank you_.” 

He weakly smiled at me, rubbing my shoulders once. “Go on,” he said, repeating his previous words. “Niall’s waiting.” 

“Right,” I said, nodding as I took a step back, looking at Harry once more before turning and heading through the door with the nurse. I wrung my hands together in front of me, nervously tugging on the sleeves of the black jumper as we headed down the large hallway. My heart was pounding in my chest, my legs feeling like they would give out at any moment, but I forced myself to keep up with her as she lead me down another hallway. 

“I want to prepare you for the state that he’s in, so that you’re not shocked when you see him, okay?” she asked, glancing sideways at me as we walked. I flicked my gaze over to her and swallowed the lump in the back of my throat before slowly nodding. Fear instantly washed over me at the way she had phrased that; prepare me for what? 

“He’s-- he’s okay, isn’t he?” I choked out. 

We stopped walking, outside of a closed door and she turned to look at me, her arms crossed over her chest, pinning the clipboard to her front. “He’s unconscious right now--”

“He’s in a coma?!” I exclaimed, my heart feeling like it came to a halt. 

“No, no.” She shook her head instantly, “He’s just asleep, honey.” I closed my eyes, relief washing over me as I took in her words, keeping my eyes squeezed shut for a moment before I forced them back open. “ It’ll be a while before he wakes up. He’s still under anesthesia from his surgery, and he also has an IV giving him morphine right now so that when he wakes up he’s not in any pain.” 

“He-- he will wake up though, right?” 

“Yes.” She nodded, smiling sweetly at me. “He’s _very_ lucky,” she said, reaching out and touching my shoulder. “He had a lot of problems with his heart, but they were able to bring it back down to a normal rhythm. They’ll have to keep a close eye on it over the next twenty four hours, but we’re very optimistic.” 

I swallowed, forcing myself to nod as I listened to her. 

“He’s going to have a tube in his throat,” she continued, “to help him breathe.” 

“Oh god,” I said, bringing my hands up to cover my mouth, my eyes widening. 

“He also has a lot of cuts and scrapes from his accident,” she said, another weak smile coming across her features. “His leg was broken in two different places, which is what they were reconstructing in surgery, so there is going to be a large cast over it and it’s suspended from a pulley system above his bed.” I blinked at her a few times and she seemed to sense my confusion. “It’s to keep it elevated about his heart,” she said, though I still didn’t quite understand why. “Are you ready?” 

“I-- I don’t know.” I said honestly, shaking my head at her. 

“I’ll be right down there if you need me, sweetie,” she said, gesturing with her hand towards the nurses station that was down the hallway. “The doctor should be coming in soon to check back up on him, okay? And he will be able to answer all of your questions.” 

“Okay,” I choked out, taking a deep breath in through my nose. “Okay.” 

She smiled once more, patting my shoulder in a comforting way before turning and leaving me by myself. I stared at the closed door ahead of me, trying to convince myself to go inside, but I found myself unmoving. I clenched my fists together, the sleeves of Harry’s jumper pinched between my fingers, trying to get a hold of my nerves so I could go inside. I reached forward, grabbing onto the door handle, willing myself to push the door open. 

I let my eyes close again, taking a deep breath in and counting to three before letting it out. I opened my eyes again, nodding to myself before pushing the door open. I had that all-too-familiar feeling that I was either going to pass out or throw up when Niall came into view. He was exactly how the nurse had described to me, and for a moment I was thankful that she had warned me or else I was sure I would have thrown up all over the floor. My heart instantly felt like it shattered into a thousand pieces, my throat constricting and my eyes burning furiously as I stared at him from across the room. 

I held my breath as I walked towards the bed, my footsteps slow as I feared to get close to him. I had never seen him look so fragile and… broken before. His face was torn up, scratches on the left side of his face from his jaw up to his cheekbone. There were bruises on the parts of his skin I could see and I knew it only had to be worse everywhere else. I stared hard at the tube coming out of his throat, at the piece of tape that was holding it in place, at the machine it was hooked up to and suddenly I felt the bile rising in the back of my throat. 

I looked around frantically, ripping open the bin in the corner of the room and barely having enough time to crouch down in front of it before I was emptying my stomach into it. I heaved loudly, my stomach feeling like it was being ripped in half as I stared down into the bin. A dry sob left my lungs as I panted hard, snuffling loudly and looking around for something to wipe my mouth on. I took a deep breath in, telling myself that I was done, before standing and ripping one of the paper towels out of the dispenser and cleaning myself off. 

I gently set the lid to the bin back on top, wincing at what had just happened, before forcing myself to turn back around. Niall was in the exact same position, completely unaware of everything that was happening around him, and my heart seemed to break even more. I made the last few steps towards the bed, grabbing the chair that had been up against the wall and dragging it closer to his bed before slinking down into it. 

I stared at him for a long time, my breaths coming out heavy as my heart continued to pound into my eardrums, my eyes flicking from his face down to his leg and then back again. I couldn’t help but feel guilty; feel like this was somehow my fault. If we hadn’t gotten into that fight, that fight that _I_ started, he would have never had to leave the flat. I swallowed roughly, my throat feeling tight again and my eyes burning with tears that so badly wanted to spill over. 

His heart monitor was beeping with every beat, the machine hooked up to his breathing tube making a loud swooshing sound as it pumped air into his lungs every few seconds, and the noises were quickly overwhelming me. I could feel my face crumbling as tears began to spill over my eyes, my body unable to hold them back anymore, and as a wet sob left my lungs I reached forward and grabbed onto his hand with both of mine. 

I held onto his lifeless hand tightly, bringing my forehead down onto the edge of his bed, sobbing hard to myself and unable to stop. All of the emotions I had been trying desperately to hold in seemed to all leave me at once; the fight, the accident, Harry. It was all too much. “I’m so sorry,” I cried, even though I knew he couldn’t hear me. I gripped his hand harder, one underneath and one above, my eyes squeezed shut as more tears dripped down my cheeks. “I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry.” 

I sat there for a long time unmoving, my head still pressed against the edge of his bed, his hand still gripped in mine, and I allowed myself to let it all out while I was alone. I didn’t want anybody to have to comfort me, and Niall was still unconscious, so I didn’t try to hold back the tears that were flowing down my cheeks. “I’m so sorry.” I kept repeating in between my sobs, “It should have been me, I’m so sorry, oh god,” I sobbed. 

Suddenly I felt a hand touch the top of my head and I jerked up, my eyes wide and my lips parted. His eyes were halfway open, his other arm falling weakly back down onto his stomach after I had sat up straight. “Oh my god,” I said, another wet sob leaving my lungs. “Oh my god, you’re awake,” I cried, lunging forward and wrapping my arms around him. He grunted, his body tensing under mine and I quickly pulled back, my hands flying to mouth as I realized I had just hurt him more. “Oh god, I hurt you, I’m so sorry!” 

With his eyes still halfway open, a pained expression on his face, I watched as he flicked his gaze around the room a few times before they landed back on me. I felt like I was going to pass out. He blinked a few times, his eyes opening wider and he looked down (As much as he could.) before looking back over at me. He pulled his hand up slowly, his muscles obviously weak from everything had been through, and tapped on the end of the tube coming out of his mouth. 

“Oh! Oh god!” I said, quickly understanding what he wanted. “Hold on!” I said, stumbling backwards and almost tripping over my own feet. With our eyes still locked as I shuffled around the end of the bed, I held my hands up in front of me and said, “I’ll be _right_ back.” I looked at him for another moment before turning and darting out of the room. 

Once in the hallway I looked both ways, frantically trying to get my bearings and remember where the nurses station had been. I took off in a run down the hallway, my feet sliding against the linoleum floor as I came to a quick stop in front of the desk. “He-- he’s awake.” I panted, “Niall-- he’s-- tube-- awake.” I stammered in between my heavy breathing, trying desperately to form the words that needed to come out. 

“I’m going to get the doctor.” The nurse told me, scooting back from the computer and standing. Without waiting for her to say anything else, I turned back on my heels and took off in another run down the hallway back towards Niall’s room. I shouldered the door open when I got there, quickly walking back around the bed and our eyes locked again. 

“The doctors coming,” I told him, my breathing heavy as I reached for his hand again. His eyes were locked on mine, the most pathetic expression I had ever seen played out across his features and it only broke my heart even more. I cupped his hand in mine, clutching it tightly to my chest as I looked down at him, wishing that I could somehow take away all of his pain. “Just hold on, they’re coming,” I said, more to myself than to him. 

His eyes didn’t leave mine the entire time we were waiting for the doctor, and I forced myself to keep my eye contact with him, murmuring words of encouragement at him as time seemed to tick by slower than ever before. Finally the doctor came in, accompanied with a nurse, and they instantly started talking to him as they urged me to step aside so that they could further examine him. 

I stood back a few feet, one of my hands brought up to my mouth and I chewed on my thumb nail nervously while they tried to explain to him what they were going to do. The doctor kept walking in front of me, shuffling around to get everything together, but every time he would step out of my vision Niall’s eyes were locked onto me. Whatever piece of my heart that was left seemed to break at the broken expression across his face. 

Finally, after what seemed like another hour, the doctor instructed Niall to take a deep breath in and then cough as hard as he could and then the tube was out. Niall continued to cough and I winced, as if I could actually feel the pain that he was. “Your throat is going to be pretty sore for the next few days, Mr. Horan,” the doctor said, removing the gloves from his hands and tossing them into the bin. “So it’s best if you don’t talk at all for at least the next few hours, okay? Not even a whisper.” 

I watched as Niall nodded, rolling his head back over to look at me. I smiled weakly at him, even though I felt like I was falling apart, and I listened as the doctor gave Niall more instructions and explained that he would be in the hospital for the next few days so that they could keep a close eye on his condition. I was chomping at the bit wanting to get back next to Niall but I forced myself to stay back as they did their job, and after what seemed like forever they finally both left the room, telling us that the nurse would be back in a few hours to check up on him.

As soon as they left I darted back across the room to his bedside. “I’m so sorry, Niall,” I said, my jaw trembling again as I could feel the tears returning to my eyes. “I’m so very sorry; I love you so much,” I said, reaching out and cupping both of his cheeks with my hands, running my thumb lightly over the scrapes. “It should have been me. I’m so sorry. I love you so much,” I rambled, not able to form real sentences as another tear slipped out and ran down the side of my cheek. 

He brought one of his hands up and weakly pushed at mine.. I let go of his cheeks, pulling my hands back towards my chest as I examined every inch of his face with my eyes. I watched as his lips parted to say something, “No!” I quickly cut him off, “They said don’t talk! Shh!” I hushed, instantly reaching forward and covering his mouth with my palm so he couldn’t speak. He stared up at me with sleepy eyes, bringing his hand back up to weakly push me away again. 

Once I had pulled my hand away again I stared down at his hand, watching as he moved his thumb back and forth trying to tell me something. “What is it? What do you want?” I asked, confused as I watched him bring his other hand up as if he was holding something between it, his thumbs moving back and forth. “I-- I don’t know what that is,” I said, panicked as I looked back up at his eyes for a second then back down. “Oh!” I said, it finally dawning on me what he was imitating. 

I reached into the pocket of my shorts and grabbed my phone, quickly sliding it unlocked and bringing up a blank text message before handing it to him. He weakly grabbed the phone from me, resting it on his lap as he struggled to type something out, his eyes heavy lidded and his chin resting against his chest. I bit my lip, trying to peer over at what he was typing. When he nodded at me, I reached forward and gently took the phone out of his hand. 

_its ok_

My lip quivered again as soon as I read it, more tears rushing to my eyes and spilling over, my heart sinking deeper into my core. “It’s not okay,” I cried, looking back over at him with blurry vision. “It’s not okay at all! I’m such an asshole and-- and I said such horrible things to you and-- and completely overreacted and I-- I’m _so sorry_!” I rambled, my words coming out quick as I stuttered them out. 

He nodded at me again and I instantly placed the phone back in his hand, pulling my thumb back up to my lip and biting on the nail harshly as he slowly typed out something else, his eyes seeming to close further as he went. When he finally nodded again, I reached forward and grabbed the phone, turning it around and reading out the message. 

_im gonna kick ur ass_

“Yes! Please! Please kick my ass!” I said, my words coming out frantic. “I deserve it! As soon as you’re out of here you can! I’ll just stand there and take it, I promise!” I said, and I swear he rolled his eyes at me, making a weak grabby hand for the phone again. 

_if u dont stop apologizing_

Another weak sob left my lungs, even though the tears had stopped, and I looked back up at him pathetically. I felt like the room was spinning, my eyes drifting from Niall’s face and down to the floor, unable to look at him anymore. His hand caught my attention out of the corner of my eye and he patted the bed next to his uninjured leg. I sat down on the edge, careful not to pull any of the wires that were connected to him, and weakly reached back out for his hand. 

I cupped his hand with both of mine, holding it tightly in my lap, staring down at it and refusing to look back up into his eyes. “I was so scared,” I whispered, my grip still tight around his hand. “I don’t know what I would have done if you weren’t okay,” I said, flicking my eyes up to him for a split second before looking back down. He squeezed my hand and I closed my eyes tightly, letting a long puff of air leave my lungs. 

“You know that I-- that I love you more than anybody in the world, right?” I asked, flicking my eyes back up to him. He smiled weakly at me, his lips barely forming a smile at all, and he nodded his head once. “Like, more than _anybody._ Seriously. I-- I could never live without you,” I continued, trying desperately to find the right words to say to him. He squeezed my hand once, his eyes shutting for a few seconds before he forced them back open again. “You-- you know all that, right?” 

He weakly nodded, trying again to smile at me but failing. 

“Okay,” I whispered, snuffling and bringing my shoulder up to wipe my nose. I stayed in that position for a long time, until he fell back asleep about an hour later, and once I knew he was back asleep I gently stood from the bed, my hand still gripped tightly to his, and pulled the chair I had been sitting in before earlier even closer to his bed. I watched his face as I sat back down on the chair, watching for any signs that he was waking back up, and once I realized that he was still asleep I let my muscles relax a bit. The only sound in the room was coming from his heart monitor, but the noise became comforting the longer he slept; at least I knew his heart was beating right. 

I let my forehead rest back against his the edge of the bed, my free arm curled up around my head, my other still entangled in his. I closed my eyes, breathing out slowly, listening to the constant beep of the monitor. I must have drifted off to sleep in that position, because it wasn’t until he started shifting around that I was stirred from my sleep. I instantly sat up, my back giving off a loud crack from the position I had fallen asleep in, bent far over onto the edge of his bed, and I blinked up at him. 

I don’t know how long I had been asleep for, but it was lighter in the room, the sun starting to rise outside of the windows. I snuffled loudly, our tired eyes locking onto each others. “Are you okay? How are you feeling?” I asked, my voice hoarse from sleeping. 

“Water,” he whispered. 

I quickly stood, the chair making an obnoxious sound as it scooted back, and for the first time in a few hours I let go of his hand. “I’ll be right back,” I told him, waiting for him to nod before leaving the room. I made my way down the hallway, my back still sore from how I had fallen asleep, and I ran my hands through my hair as I rounded the nurses station to ask for some water. 

It wasn’t until I got back to his room that it dawned on me that I never told Harry what happened. After he had come here the _least_ I could do was let him know that Niall was okay. “The nurse is going to bring you some ice chips.” I told him as I entered his room again, sitting back down in the same chair I had been. I reached forward and grabbed my phone, which was still laying in Niall’s lap from where he had been typing on it before, but I frowned down at it when I realized it was dead. 

“Shit,” I whispered, sighing quietly and slipping the phone back in my pocket. “I, um…” I trailed off, watching as his eyes flicked over to me. “I kind of… well…” I stammered, not knowing if I wanted to tell Niall about Harry or not. He raised a sleepy eyebrow at me, silently urging me to continue. “I kind of called Harry last night.” 

He blinked at me, a blank expression across his face. 

“I-- It was when you were in surgery,” I whispered, looking down at my lap in shame. “I was scared and… I didn’t know what to do so… I don’t know.” I sighed, “It just kind of happened.” There was a long silence between us and I finally looked back up at him. His expression was the same, completely blank, and I didn’t know what was going through his head. “I… I know that’s probably the _last_ thing you want to hear right now, but… he-- he was… sweet.” 

“He’s--” Niall started, but went into a coughing fit. 

I winced, “Shh, don’t talk,” I urged, reaching forward and resting my palm down on his forearm. 

“He’s here?” he whispered, ignoring my instructions. 

“No.” I shook my head, “Well-- well he _was_ here, but… but that was hours ago,” I whispered, looking back down to my lap. “He waited with me while you were in surgery and… I really don’t know what I would have done without him,” I whispered, finally looking back up at him. Niall held my eye contact for a moment before nodding, an expression across his face that I couldn’t read. I was about to say something else when the nurse came in, holding a tray with a small water pitcher and plastic cups full of ice. 

“I’m going to change the bandage on your ribs, okay?” she asked him, causing me to frown again. I didn’t know there was anything wrong with his ribs. She walked around to the same side of the bed I was on and I quickly realized that I was in her way. I stood up, pushing the chair back again as I shuffled around the bed, watching as she peeled back the blanket that had been covering him. 

“I--” I spoke up, not knowing if I could physically watch this anymore. I was bound to throw up if I saw anymore of his injuries, the same guilty feeling washing over me. They both looked over at me expectantly and I pointed a thumb over my shoulder. “I’m gonna, um, go plug my phone in… in my car… to, um, you know… charge… it.” _To call Harry._

Without waiting for a response out of either of them I quickly turned around and left the room, exhaling slowly through my nose to compose myself before turning and heading down the hallway. My feet moved me numbly towards the lift, trying to mentally prepare myself for what I was going to say to Harry. I should keep it strictly about Niall. 

I shook my head, sighing to myself as I pressed the down arrow on the lift, and as I waited for it to arrive on our floor something caught my attention out of the corner of my eye. I looked to my left, at the same waiting room that we had been in before, and I noticed that Harry was curled up on one of the small couches. It was hard to tell from where I stood but, but I could tell he was sound asleep. 

_Oh god._

I swallowed the lump in the back of my throat, forcing my feet to move me away from the lift and back towards the waiting room. I looked around the room, noticing that it was still empty, and I slowly made my way over towards the small green couch. My legs felt like they were going to give out at any moment and I couldn’t help the way my heart fluttered as I took in his sleeping form. 

He had one arm curled up underneath his head as a makeshift pillow, his other arm dangling off the cushion towards the floor. His long legs curled up tight against him to fit onto the small couch and at some point during the night his shirt had bunched up a bit, revealing a small line of his abdomen. 

I swallowed again, sinking down into the chair next to him and hesitantly reached out for him. My fingers instinctively went to run through his matted curls, but as they got closer I realized that it was _completely_ inappropriate. My hand froze, hovered just above his head, and I sighed quietly to myself before tapping his shoulder instead. 

“Harry,” I whispered, but he didn’t move. I bit down on my lip, reaching out and gently shaking his shoulder. “Harry?” He finally began to stir, his eyes fluttering a few times before he shot straight up. I retracted my hand instantly, watching as he looked around confused, his eyes squinted and even puffier than they had been the night before. He finally looked over at me, with only one eye open, and when he realized that it was me he opened both eyes wider. 

“Louis? Are you okay?” he asked, his voice deeper than ever before. 

I swallowed again, “Yeah.”

“Niall?” he asked, squinting again as his eyes tried to adjust. 

“Yeah,” I whispered. “He’s-- yeah, he’s okay. He’s awake now.” 

Harry nodded. “Good,” he said, his voice still extremely hoarse. I watched as he brought his hands up to his face and scrubbed his cheeks hard, then rubbed his eyes for a moment before running his fingers through his sleep-matted hair. He snuffled a few times, hunched over with his elbows on his thighs, then he finally looked back over to me. 

“I’m… I’m so sorry,” I said, “I-- I thought for sure that you… went home. I feel horrible that you stayed out here this whole time.” 

He shook his head, “It’s okay.” 

“No it’s not.” I sighed, looking down at the ground, the familiar feeling of shame washing back over me. “I-- I shouldn’t have even called you in the first place,” I mumbled, fidgeting my hands together in my lap. Harry sighed quietly but didn’t respond, silence quickly washing over us as I tried to figure out what else to say to him. I looked back over at him, only to find that he was still looking at me. 

“What time is it?” he asked, his tone quiet and still rough. 

“I-- um, I’m not sure,” I said. “I was going out to my car to charge my phone when I saw you sleeping here,” I said, looking back down to my lap. “The um… sun is coming out though… so it’s pretty early. God, I’m so sorry you stayed,” I said, looking back over at him. 

“Louis, it’s fine,” he said, shaking his head. “You didn’t force me to stay.” 

“But I feel horrible.” I sighed, my cheeks heating with embarrassment. 

“Well…” he trailed off, running his fingers through his hair again before looking back over at me. “Don’t.” He grinned at me, and I couldn’t help but chuckle quietly. I watched as he dug in his pockets for a moment before pulling his phone out, glancing down at it before saying, “Fuck. I-- I have to get going, I have work and--” 

“Go,” I urged, smiling weakly at him. “You’ve stayed too long.” 

He nodded, standing up and stretching his arms above his head, his shirt riding up even more in the process. I swallowed the lump in the back of my throat, forcing my eyes away from his exposed skin and stared down at the floor. “You’ll, um, let me know how he’s doing?” he asked, causing me to look back up at him. 

“Yeah, yeah, of course.” I nodded, standing up and folding my arms across my chest. I looked down, realizing that I was still wearing his jumper from the night before and my cheeks instantly heated. “Oh, um, here,” I said, reaching behind me to tug on the hood. 

“No, no, keep it,” he said, holding his palms out towards me. 

“No, Harry, I--” 

“I have another one in my car,” he blurted out, his words coming out quickly. “It’s-- it’s still cold outside, you’ll need it,” he said, his tone now much quieter and barely above a whisper. I swallowed roughly, letting my arm drop back down to my side and my heart fluttered again. 

“Thank you,” I whispered, looking down at the floor again. 

“Don’t thank me.” 

“I don’t know what I would have done without you,” I mumbled, embarrassed at how weak I was. 

“Don’t worry about it, Lou,” he said, placing his hand on my shoulder. I looked up, our eyes meeting and he smiled at me once before letting his hand drop. “Text me, okay?” he asked, raising both eyebrows at me. I swallowed again before nodding, forcing another weak smile onto my face. I wanted to say something else, wanted him to know how much it meant to me that he had come, but none of the words left my mouth. So instead, I stood there in the middle of the room and watched him walk away.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiiiiii guys! 
> 
> So... what'd you think? Pretty heartbreaking, yeah? Man... I don't remember the last time a chapter WASN'T heartbreaking! Sorry about that... Anyway... =) Have I told you lately how much I love you guys? Because, if I haven't, I **LOVE** you! The closer I get to the end of this story, the more I realize _how many_ of you have been there from the start! Your support means THE WHOLE ENTIRE WORLD to me and this story would be nothing without it! 
> 
> **You guys are all so lovely and beautiful and FUNNY... and... SPEAKING OF ALL THOSE PEOPLE. HUGE SHOUTOUT TO: BeautifulPeopleLarry, 1Ddreamlove, Eden, my FANTASTIC WIFEY LouisLoves who is AMAZING, my polish baby-boo Entice, hanni_mikk, ILoveLou, GaaneGinger, Yennsy, LO_LA, jacktheminiatureslayer, writingforlarry, 1DFan, BullCrapUnicorn, Nemo5678, Lizzy_NxL and Sunkissed_! THERE'S SO MANY OF YOU. I LOVE IT. I LOVE YOU.**
> 
> There's about three chapters left guys =( 
> 
> The realization of that hit me hard this morning. What am I supposed to do with my life once this is over? 
> 
> Anyway! I will be starting the next chapter soon and hopefully updating at some point over the weekend! Can't wait for you guys to read it, and can't wait to see your feedback from this chapter! The song that was on repeat while writing this chapter was Sirens by Pearl Jam, which does things to me. You should listen to that. Allow me to make your life easier and link you. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qQXP6TDtW0w&feature=kp You're welcome. =) 
> 
> Okay. That's all I got. BYYYYYEEEEEE.


	31. If All Else Fails

I readjusted in the chair next to Niall’s hospital bed. My bum was asleep, all of my muscles sore from sitting for so long and I was definitely lacking sleep. It had been almost two full days since his accident but I couldn’t bring myself to leave his bedside. He was currently sleeping, which is how he spent most of his time here since he was on so many different medications, and my feet were propped up onto the end of his bed. 

I let my head loll to the side, my cheek resting against my shoulder, and let my eyes close. I thought about drifting off again, and was halfway into sleep-land when I felt my phone buzzing in my pocket. I groaned quietly, snapping my eyes back open and digging my fingers into the pocket to retrieve my phone. I blinked at the screen, clearing my vision to make sure I was reading the name properly. 

Harry. 

_How’s Niall doing?_

I swallowed harshly, chewing on my bottom lip as I read his text again. It was the first time we had spoken since he left the hospital early yesterday morning, and even though he had shown up here at the hospital and slept in the waiting room, I was still shocked to see his name. We had gone for so long without speaking to each other, after everything that had happened between the two of us, but I still couldn’t help the way my heart fluttered just from reading his name. 

**He seems to be getting better… he says he has “cabin fever” from being in the hospital too long.**

_Cabin fever? It’s been… a day._

I bit down on my lip hard again, trying to suppress the smile that was trying to form on my face. My heart was beating considerably harder than before, Harry always bringing that reaction out of me, and I raked my brain to think of how to respond to him. For a moment it felt like I had been transported back in time; back to before anything ever happened between Harry and I. 

When everything was simple. 

When we would text each other all day about nothing. 

I sighed quietly to myself, crossing one ankle over the other and leaning further back into the [uncomfortable] green chair. I looked up over my phone to Niall, to make sure he was still asleep, before looking back down and tapping out my reply with my thumbs. 

**Well. He’s always been dramatic…**

_Right, right…_

_So… how’re you doing then?_

**I’m okay… starving as hell, but I don’t trust this hospital food.**

_=( You need to eat!_

**Thanks Mum.**

“Louis?” I looked up from my phone and smiled at Niall’s mum, who was walking into the room with two steaming paper cups held tightly in her hands. She had gotten in late last night, when I finally had the courage to call her, and she had of course dropped everything and took the next train to London. “Why don’t you go home for a bit, sweetie?” she offered, handing me one of the cups. 

I gratefully accepted the tea, thanking her before taking a sip of the hot beverage. I retracted my legs from the end of the bed, to let Niall’s mum pass by, and then replaced them once she had slipped past me. “I’m okay,” I said, finally answering her previous question. “I don’t want to leave just yet.” I placed my phone in my lap, holding onto the cup with both hands and looking over at her as she pulled up a chair next to me. 

“You look a mess,” she said, her words blunt but her tone soft. “When was the last time you slept?” 

I shrugged, “I don’t know.” I said, looking back down at my lap and avoiding her eyes. She sighed quietly next to me before silence fell over us. I picked my phone back up and slid it unlocked, my lip twitching as I read Harry’s response.

_Didn’t we talk about you calling me mum…_

I couldn’t help the smile that formed on my face. I let my eyes close, remembering the day that he had attempted to teach me how to ride a bike, how he had gotten up into my space and pulled me close to him with his hands on my bum, then whispered hotly against my ear _call me your mum one more time…_

I shivered, snapping my eyes back open and looking around me, as if Mrs. Horan could tell exactly what I was thinking. I looked back down at the iPhone in my hand, my thumb hovering over the text message, trying to think of something to say back to him. I was very aware of my heart pounding in my chest, the same way it always did for Harry. I was just about to respond when Mrs. Horan spoke up again. 

“He’s going to be okay, you know.” I looked over at her, my thumb still frozen over the keyboard, and smiled weakly at her. “You don’t have to be here _all_ the time,” she said, taking a sip of her tea and then smiling softly at me. 

I sighed, “I know. I just… don’t want to leave him when he’s asleep,” I said, shrugging slightly before looking back over at Niall’s sleeping form. He had been upset that I had called his mum, even though I saw him instantly relax when she ran her fingers through his matted hair, but he still gave me _that_ look. 

That _you’re a fucking prick_ look.

“At least go get some fresh air, yeah?” she asked, knocking me out of my thoughts. I looked back up at her before nodding, forcing myself to stand from the chair and instantly cracking my back out. “Maybe go home and take a shower?” 

“Are you telling me that I stink?” I grinned at her. 

“Yes.” She laughed, smiling sweetly at me as I rolled my eyes. 

“I’ll think about it,” I said, raising my eyebrows at her before letting them drop. I snuffled slightly, leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to Niall’s forehead before heading towards the door. I stopped before pushing it open, giving Niall one last look before his mum shooed me away. I sighed quietly, slipping back out into the hallway and heading towards the lift, paper cup held tightly in my right hand, my phone clutched in the other. 

As I walked outside into the chilly London air, still wrapped up in Harry’s jumper that he had left with me, I took a moment to breathe in the fresh air. I hadn’t been home since the accident; my whole life seemed to be a blur ever since I got the call. I rolled my neck back and forth, stretching out my screaming muscles, squinting against the sunlight that I felt like I hadn’t seen in days. I was so relieved that Niall was going to be okay, but I wouldn’t feel _right_ until he was back in our flat. 

I took another moment to just stand there, ignoring all the people that were rushing around me, ignoring the snow that was surrounding my feet, and just took _one_ moment. I shut my eyes, breathing in deeply through my nose and holding it for a moment before finally letting it out. I opened my eyes back up, only to find that everything was the same, and huffed quietly to myself before walking the few feet back over towards the small cement wall. 

I brushed the snow off with my jumper-covered hand before hoisting myself up. I ran my fingers through my messy fringe a few times, realizing how awful I must appear to everyone who looked my way, and I sighed quietly before giving up. I took another sip of the still-hot tea before setting it down on the ledge next to me. I was still having problems wrapping my head around everything that had happened in the past few days; but most of all, _Harry._

He came to the hospital. 

He stayed all night. 

And now, apparently, we were back on texting terms? 

I felt like it had been _years_ since we had even spoken, and now suddenly he was back in my life. It was strange. It was unexpected. It was… nice. I had put so much effort into _getting over_ Harry, and pretending that he had never existed, that I almost forgot how much I really cared about him.

More than wanting him to be my boyfriend, more than the filthy thing I had wanted to do to him, I forgot how much he _meant_ to me. 

How _nice_ he was. 

How he was the sweetest, most caring person I had ever met. 

The fact that he had dropped everything to run to me when I needed help hit me hard. 

Like suddenly I forgot why we weren’t together anymore. 

I pulled my phone out of my pocket and swiped it unlocked, trying to come up with something to say to him, but I was at a loss. I stared at the phone hard, snuffling against the cold air, chewing on my bottom lip as I realized I had no idea what to say. I sighed quietly, slipping my phone back in my pocket before picking back up my tea and taking another long sip. 

I sat there for a long while, my empty tea cup now disregarded off to the side, my phone clutched tightly in my hands in the middle of an intense game of Flappy Bird. (Niall had gotten me hooked during my PHA and the game had taken over my life.) I chewed on the inside of my cheek, cursing Flappy and everything he stood for, when suddenly a voice caught me off guard. 

“Louis?” 

I whipped my head up, my heart seeming to stop mid-beat when my eyes fixated on Harry. The dramatic sound of Flappy’s death rang through the speakers of my phone but I pushed it to the back of my head. My breath caught in my throat, my lips parted to say something but nothing came out. He grinned, his dimple appear in the center of his cheek, before he stepped towards me and shook a brown paper bag in front of him. 

“What is-- what are you doing here?” I stammered. 

“Well… I knew you weren’t going to go get something to eat, so I... um, kinda… made you lunch.” 

“You… made me lunch?” 

“Yes.” He nodded, then quickly added, “I mean. It’s just a sandwich. I didn’t like… make you an _extravagant_ meal or anything,” he said, his words coming out quick and awkward. “I had some leftover chicken from last night so I, like, cut that up… and… Shauna had some onions so I chopped them up and kinda like, put a bunch of those on there for you. Because… I knew you would… want… those,” he stammered, scrunching up his nose and looking down at the ground. I bit back my grin as he continued rambling. “And, um, I threw some crisps in there… but it’s not like, a proper meal… but, um, yes. I, um, made you lunch and--” 

“Harry,” I cut him off, a smile sneaking onto my face when I realized how hard he was rambling.

I was the rambler; not him. 

“Sorry,” he said, but I didn’t miss the way his lip twitched as he tried to suppress his grin. I swallowed the lump in the back of my throat, biting down on my bottom lip as I stared at him. “Here,” he said, handing me the folded up paper bag.

“Thank you,” I choked out, reaching out to grab the bag from him, my fingers brushing over his in the process. I swallowed again as I held the bag in my lap, looking down at it fondly as he stood in front of me. “You really didn’t have to.” 

“It’s no problem,” he said, and when I looked up at him he was looking away from me, his cheeks tinted pink just barely. My heart fluttered again. I looked him up and down once and of course he looked perfect, as usual. With his tight black jeans and a black peacoat bundled up to his neck. It suddenly dawned on me that I looked like _complete_ shit and was still in the exact same outfit as I was two nights ago when I had last seen him. 

My cheeks heated with embarrassment as I looked down, overwhelmed with the feeling of self consciousness. I probably smelled horrible and I knew I looked like a complete wreck. My hair was greasy, completely unwashed, and I was still in his damn jumper. 

Fuck my life.

“Um, so…” he said, kicking at the pavement and still avoiding my glance. “Niall is um… good?”

I cleared my throat, “Yeah. Good. He… is…” 

Harry looked up, smirking slightly. “You sound like Yoda.” 

I quirked an eyebrow at him. “... What?” 

“Good he is,” he said, attempting a horrible rendition of Yoda’s voice. “Sick he is not.” He then threw his head back and laughed, laughing at his own joke, and I couldn’t help but smile at him. I chuckled softly, shaking my head, watching as he continued to laugh. “Sorry, sorry,” he said. “This is serious.” 

I rolled my eyes. 

“Can I sit?” he asked, nodding towards the ledge next to me. 

“Yeah,” I said, shuffling over some even though there was plenty of room before. “It’ll make your bum cold though, just a heads up,” I said, watching as he turned around and hoisted himself up onto the wall next to me. 

“Well, considering it’s freezing outside,” he said, looking over at me. “Good thing I left this jumper with you, yeah? You’d be out here with no jacket at all, you fool.” 

“Yeah.” I blushed, “Thanks for that.” 

“No problem.” He smiled, “It, um, looks better on you anyway.” 

I looked down, my cheeks heating back up, focusing my eyes on the paper bag in my hand. “I promise I’ll, um, wash it before giving it back to you… I haven’t really had the chance to even go home yet.” I mumbled. “That’s why I look like such a mess right now.” 

“You look great.” He blurted out. I froze, my heart pounding against my chest. I turned and looked at him, catching his eye for a moment before he quickly looked down to his lap. “I mean, you always look good. So, like, today’s no different.” 

“Oh,” I said, trying to ignore all of the emotions creeping up on me. 

Silence. 

“Well… I should be going then,” he said, after another few moments of awkward silence passed between the two of us. I watched as he hopped off the wall and wiped off the back of his jeans with his hands before looking back up at me. 

“Right.” I nodded, biting the inside of my cheek again before speaking up. “Thank you for bringing me lunch. Really.” 

“You’re welcome.” He smiled at me, our eyes locking for a moment before he looked off to the side. “I’ll, um, see you later then?” 

“Yeah.” 

Silence. 

“Okay. I’m going now,” he said, flashing his eyes back over to me. I smiled at him, watching as he stood still for another moment before finally shaking his head and turning around. I sighed quietly, watching as he walked back towards the carpark and I found myself staring at his back until I couldn’t see him anymore. 

What just happened?

 

* * *

 

**Niall’s coming home today!!!!!!**

_That’s great! When?_

**Walking to my car now!**

_How are you going to get him upstairs??_

**You know, I may be short but I’m fuckin’ strong. Don’t underestimate me.**

_=( That’s not what I meant! It’s just… a lot of stairs._

**I’ll put him on my back.**

_With a broken leg?_

**…bridal style, then.**

_Up four flights of stairs?!?!?!?_

**Are you questioning my strength again?!**

_Yes._

**Rude.**

_You’re impossible._

_Text me when you get here and I’ll come down and help._

**You don’t have to. I’ll manage.**

_Just text me._

**No, I’ll figure it out.**

_K._

_I’ll just wait downstairs then._

_In the cold._

_Waiting._

_Because you’re being stubborn._

_Hurry up please. It’s quite cold._

I sighed to myself, staring down at the phone in my hand, chewing on my bottom lip hard. This was all too surreal for me; Harry suddenly being back in my life. As if nothing had ever happened between us. As if we _hadn’t_ had such a horrible breakup. As if my life hadn’t been miserable for the past two months without him. We had been texting back and forth, casually of course, since he had brought me lunch the other day. 

Niall had been in the hospital for four days now, a day longer than they had expected, but we had finally gotten the news that he was being released today. I had gone home last night for the first time; I had taken an extremely long shower and reveled in the fact I was sleeping in a bed for the first time in however many days.

I was getting too old to be sleeping in chairs. 

I forcefully swallowed the lump in the back of my throat before finally responding to his message. 

**Go back inside, you knob. I’ll text you when I get there.**

_That’s better!!!!!_

I took a deep breath in before slipping my phone into my pocket, taking an extra moment to calm myself down before shifting the car into drive and pulling out of the parking space. I drove up to the entrance of the hospital, where Niall had been wheeled out by a nurse, and threw my hazard lights on before getting out of the car. 

Niall had on a thick jumper, but could only manage a pair of loose footy shorts because of the large cast that was covering his leg. The cuts on his face were already starting to heal but were still very present and his blonde hair was sticking in all different directions. The nurse pushed his wheelchair around to the passenger side of the car and I quickly jogged ahead to open the door. 

“How, um… should we…?” I stammered, looking from the nurse back to the car. His leg wasn’t able to bend so I had no idea how he was going to fit into the front seat of my car. It took us a few minutes to figure out the logistics, and I had adjusted the seat multiple times before we were able to get him settled in. After shutting the door and thanking the nurse, I jogged back around to the drivers side and sat back down. 

“Fucking mother of Mary.” Niall was muttering, a pained expression on his face, causing me to frown at him. “Why do you have the smallest mother fucking car in the world? Christ!” he continued, glaring at me through narrowed eyes. I couldn’t help but grin at him, glad that at least his charming personality was back from the dead. 

“Sorry, muffin,” I cooed, reaching over and rustling his dirty hair. 

“Fuck off,” he said, swatting at my hand before crossing his arms over his chest and sinking lower into the seat. “Just drive.” 

“Your wish is my command!” I beamed, buckling my seatbelt before pulling away from the hospital. “Your mum is already back at our flat.” I told him casually as we drove, “She stopped at Tesco and got you a whole bunch of food. _And_ she said she was going to make you a proper Irish supper tonight.” 

“Sick,” he replied, though his tone showed how much pain he was in from trying to get him into the car. 

“And, um, Shauna texted me?” 

“Yeah?” he asked, rolling his head over to look at me with both eyebrows raised. 

“Yeah,” I said, grinning over at him for a moment before readjusting my eyes onto the road. “She said she was going to stop by when she gets off of work tonight.” 

“Oh,” he said, trying to sound uninterested but failing. I was still trying to adjust to the fact that they were in a relationship, but it was getting a bit easier to accept. She had come to visit him in the hospital the other day and seeing the way his face lit up when he saw her made my heart melt a little. It was still weird for me, especially knowing how long they had been going out without my knowledge, but if she was making him happy… that’s all that mattered.

“Maybe she’ll give you a sponge bath.” I offered. He laughed loudly and I couldn’t help but smile wider, chuckling along with him. “Because I’m sure-as-shit _not_ doing that!” I added. 

“Aw, come on, baby-cakes,” he said, lazily reaching over to pinch at my cheek. “You know you’ve been waiting for an opportunity like this to come along. Been tryin’ to get into me pants for years.” 

“Right, right,” I replied, my tone dripping with sarcasm. 

“Don’t worry, me dick wasn’t hurt in the accident.” 

“Jesus Christ,” I spluttered, laughing loudly afterwards. He cackled, but then winced and grabbed at his cast when we hit a pothole in the road. I frowned, looking over at him with a concerned expression. “Sorry,” I whispered. 

“If the object of the game was to hit _every single bump_ in the _fucking_ road; you would be the champion.” He said, narrowing his eyes at me again. My lip twitched before it formed into a smile, chuckling quietly as I focused my attention back onto the road, trying to _avoid_ all the bumps and dips from now on. We spent the rest of the trip in comfortable silence; Niall’s pain medication was starting to kick back in and he had dozed off at some point during the ride home. 

“Niall,” I whispered, nudging his shoulder gently to try and wake him. “We’re home. You gotta wake up,” I said, petting his hair a few times while he stirred. He groaned, shifting around in his seat before cracking an eye open at me. “That’s better.” I smiled, “Let’s get you up!” I grabbed the keys from the ignition before opening the door and heading around to the other side of the car. I paused outside of the door, bringing my phone out and quickly texting Harry that we were here. 

“So, um, I forgot to mention…” I trailed off, reaching around to unbuckle his seat belt but he quickly swatted my hand away, telling me that he wasn’t _completely_ incapable of taking care of himself. I rolled my eyes before I continued, “I, um… well, Harry’s on his way down to, um, help me get you upstairs.” I watched his face for any reaction, knowing that Harry was still a very sore subject between the two of us, and he looked up at me for a second before sighing. 

“So you two are back together?” 

“What?” I stopped my movements abruptly to look at him. “No. Not at all!” I said, shaking my head. 

“Mmm,” he hummed, raising his eyebrows once before letting them drop. 

I went back to helping him get out of his seat. “He’s just, um… being helpful.” 

“Right,” he huffed, rolling his eyes. “Helpful.” 

“Niall.” I sighed, stepping back once I had gotten him shifted in his seat so that both of his feet were on the ground. “Really. We aren’t… I mean, we haven’t even _talked_ about any of that. Kind of. We’re just…” I paused, clicking my tongue against the roof of my mouth. “He’s just being nice.” 

“Okay.” Niall shrugged, clearly wanting this conversation to end. “It’s your life.” 

“Niall--” 

“Hey mates!” Harry’s voice knocked me out of my thoughts and I whipped my head over to look at him, with his stupid skin-tight jeans and his stupid cable knit sweater. Why couldn’t he look awful _just this once?_ I looked back over to Niall, silently urging him with my eyes to be nice; to which he rolled his eyes again in response. “How are you feeling, bro?” 

“Listen here, Curly--”

“Niall,” I warned, glaring at him. 

“--Just because I’m in a cast doesn’t mean that I’m not still capable of kicking--”

“Niall! Stop it!” I said, glaring harder at him. 

“It’s okay,” Harry spoke up, a gentle smile across his features. “Tell you what,” he began, turning to face Niall again. “Once you get out of that cast, I’ll let you take another swing at me just to prove you can, alright?” he asked, gesturing his arms out in front of him. Niall continued to glare at him. “I mean, it’s been a while since you’ve last punched me, I think I’m due, am I right?” 

“Over-fucking-due,” Niall huffed. 

“Good. We agree.” 

I bit my bottom lip hard, trying to suppress the grin that so badly wanted to spread across my lips. “Right,” I said, clapping my hands together in front of me. “Now that we’ve got that sorted, whadda you say we get you upstairs, hmm?” I raised my eyebrows at Niall, waiting for him to respond. He seemed to think it over for a moment before he finally sighed and nodded, reaching his arm out for me to grab. I stepped forward, grabbing onto his arm with both of my hands and pulled him up into a standing position. 

I let go of his arm so he could drape it across my shoulders and I watched as he hesitated for a moment before groaning loudly, draping his other arm across Harry’s. I chuckled quietly, kicking the car door shut before we started slowly making our way towards the building. I knew Niall’s pain medication must be making him loopy, considering he didn’t say another word until we rounded the last flight of stairs. 

“Why the _fuck_ didn’t we pick a goddamn flat without any _fuckin’_ stairs?” 

Harry and I both chuckled at the same time. I looked over at him, behind Niall’s head, and our eyes locked for a brief second. I smiled at him before looking back down, the three of us making the last few awkward steps to the flat. As I dug in my pocket for my keys, Niall slumped further against me, his head hung low between his shoulder blades and he was panting hard. I frowned at him, adjusting his arm around my shoulder before sticking the key into the lock and twisting it. 

As soon as the door opened, the smell of dinner cooking filled my senses and as the three of us shuffled inside, it was clear that Niall’s mum had cleaned up our flat. Something that was long overdue. “Let’s just put you on the couch, yeah?” I said, looking over Niall’s head to Harry and nodding my head towards the living room. 

“Oh! You’re home already!” Maura said, turning the corner from the kitchen, a kitchen towel hung over her shoulder and a bright smile on her face. We struggled the last few steps, Niall cussing not-so-quietly under his breath, before we finally got him onto the couch. Harry and I both stood back, relieved that he was finally upstairs and wouldn’t have to move much for the next few days, and we watched as Niall’s mum instantly started fawning over him, propping pillows behind his back and one under his leg. 

I looked over at Harry, who was standing awkwardly with his arms crossed over his chest, staring intently at the ground. “Dinner’s almost ready,” she said, turning back around to face us, still smiling brightly. “I don’t think we’ve met? I’m Maura; Niall’s mum.” 

“I’m Harry,” he said, smiling politely at her and shaking her hand. 

“Will you be staying for dinner?” 

“For fucks sake,” Niall cut in, groaning loudly. I watched as Maura turned around and glared at her son, mumbling something to him about his language, before she turned her attention back to us. 

“Oh, no thank you,” Harry said, smiling softly at her. “I’m, um… gonna get going actually,” he said, pointing a thumb over his shoulder towards the door. 

“I’ll, erm... walk you out,” I said, clearing my throat in the middle. 

“It was nice to meet you,” Harry said, polite as ever before turning and heading towards the front door. I swallowed the lump in the back of my throat before following in Harry’s footsteps. I walked slowly, suddenly not wanting him to leave but having no reason to ask him to stay. As we stepped out into the hall, I patted down my pocket to make sure I had put my keys in there before letting the door close. 

He turned, standing outside of his door, and our eyes locked. My heart was pounding in my ears, trying desperately to think of the words I wanted to say to him, but the problem was that I didn’t _know_ what I wanted to say to him. He had been _so_ sweet this past week and I was reminded of why I had fallen for him in the first place. 

But, the truth of the situation was... we _weren’t_ together.

Up until this week we weren’t even friends; and now that Niall was going to be better, I didn’t know if things were going to go back to the way they had been the past two months. While we had been texting back and forth, and he had brought me lunch the other day, it was all focused around Niall. 

Every conversation started with that; it was our common ground. 

It was a reason to talk to each other. 

Now that Niall was better, I was afraid I was losing our common ground again. 

I didn’t want that. 

But at the same time, it was still too hard to look at him as _just_ a friend, when I would _always_ have stronger feelings for him. 

“So…” he said, knocking me out of my thoughts. I watched as he cupped the back of his neck, his elbows boxing in his face as he stared down at the pavement. I knew he was waiting for me to say something; it was _my turn_ to say something afterall, but even as I parted my lips to speak, no words came out. 

I sighed quietly, letting my mouth shut again as I continued to stare at him. He finally looked up, letting his arms drop back down to his side, and he raised both eyebrows at me expectantly. I swallowed again, running my tongue across my bottom lip before finally forcing myself to speak. 

“Thank you,” I whispered, looking away from him and down to the ground, kicking my foot along the pavement. “For everything. The hospital, the food, helping me get Niall up here… I-- I don’t know what I would have done without you this week.” 

He sighed quietly, causing me to look back up at him. “It’s okay.” 

I shook my head, “No, it’s not. You-- you didn’t have to do _any_ of that. I mean, you didn’t even have to listen to my voicemail. But… you did,” I said, looking away from him again and back down to my feet. “I-- I didn’t deserve it. _I_ would have ignored me.” There was a few moments of silence between us, as I desperately searched for something else to say to him, and when I finally looked back up he was staring at me. 

“Lou,” he sighed, shaking his head and looking back down at the pavement. He seemed to think about his next sentence for a long moment before finally looking back up at me. “I’m… I’m here for you. Whatever you need, okay?” he said, wringing his hands together in front of him. I gulped, watching as his eyes flicked back up to me. “The past is… the past, you know? Shit happened. But... I’ll _always_ care about you.”

My heart stopped. My breath caught in my throat as I took in his words, my ears ringing so loud I had to struggle to hear them. I parted my lips, trying desperately to say something; to not look like a complete fool, but I was left speechless. Our eyes remained locked, a sincere expression across his face, his arms folded across his chest. 

“I miss you,” he said, his tone barely above a whisper, his eyes unmoving from mine. “I… I tried really hard to get over you, but…” 

“Harry,” I whispered, looking away from him, my heart still slamming against my ribs. 

He sighed, readjusting his stance and wrapping his arms low around his stomach. “I’m sorry. I… shouldn’t have said anything.” 

Silence. 

He continued, “I guess what I’m trying to say is… that… I’ll _always_ be here when you need me.” I looked up at him, biting down hard on my bottom lip, completely speechless. He seemed to notice that I was at a loss for words, so he smiled softly at me and said, “All you gotta do is ask. Okay?” 

I nodded slowly, so many words on the tip of my tongue. All I had to do was ask? That was it? It was that simple? I took in a deep breath through my nose, his words replaying over and over again in my mind. He gave me one last small smile before turning around and reaching into his pocket for his keys. I panicked, not wanting him to leave, especially not after everything he had just said. But I was still at a loss for words. “Harry, wait.” 

He froze, his keys hovering outside of his lock for a moment before slowly turning around and looking at me. I gulped, my breaths coming out in sharp pants through my nose, my mind racing to try and process everything. He raised both of his eyebrows at me, clearly expecting me to say something, but I gave him a pained expression instead; hoping that he could somehow read my mind and know exactly what I wanted. 

“Lou,” he whispered, taking a hesitant step towards me, our eyes still locked onto each others. I closed my mouth, biting down on the inside of my cheek hard. My heart was pounding so hard that my chest hurt, the ringing in my ears constant as I tried to get a grasp on what was happening. He took another step closer, so that he was standing right up in my space, looking down at me for a moment before reaching his hand out and cupping my cheek. I leaned into the touch, letting my eyes close for a moment before snapping them back open. “Just say it,” he whispered. 

“Say-- say what?” I choked out, shivering as he ran his thumb down my cheek and along my jaw. He was standing so close to me that I could feel his breath against my lips, my senses being filled with all things Harry when I took a deep breath in. 

“Tell me you want it too,” he whispered, his eyes trailing from my eyes down to my mouth, his thumb running along my bottom lip. Another shiver ran up my spine, my eyes falling shut again as I focused on the feeling of his thumb against my heated skin. “That you want this _just as much_ as I do,” he whispered, his other hand grabbing the side of my hip and squeezing. I snapped my eyes back open, my breath catching in my throat again.

I must be dreaming. 

“Harry--” 

“Say it,” he said, looking back into my eyes, his hand snaking around the back of my head and his fingers tangling into my hair. “I need you to say it,” he whispered, gripping my hip tighter. “I-- I need to know you feel the same way.” 

I gulped. 

“I…” I paused, my lips parted as I searched his eyes. “I want it too.” 

That’s when he kissed me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... *peers around the corner timidly* hi.... 
> 
> Please, please, PLEASE forgive me for taking TWO WEEKS (... more than two weeks.) to update. I don't even know what to say. This chapter turned out to be much more challenging than I thought it was going to be; that, plus life, is the reason it took me so long. I had planned for the next part to be PART of this chapter, but I decided to split it up so that I could update for you guys. You have waited long enough! So. I will just add it to the beginning of the next chapter =) 
> 
> Hmm, thinking about it now, I guess it IS kind of rude to leave you with a cliff hanger after how patiently you waited... but... well. I mean. C'mon. That's what I do. 
> 
> ANYWAY. I fucking love you guys SO MUCH and you're all I've thought about these last two weeks. I've been OVERWHELMED with guilt from how long it took me to write this. So please know that I've beat myself up over it. =) You all have been amazing throughout this whole story. You've always left me the nicest comments, saying THE NICEST things to me, and always understanding when I start sucking and take forever to update! I love every single one of you so much and this story would be NOTHING without the AMAZING support you give me! 
> 
> **Speaking of amazing people, HUGE shoutout to: BeautifulPeopleLarry, michela, wannaknowhowiknowyouregay, writingforlarry, sherivw, ElizabethLea, Nemo5678, 1DFan, ILoveLou, LouisLoves, BullCrapUnicorn, LO_LA, LarryLouHarry and my baby-boo Entice. You all are just... PERFECTION.**
> 
> I've had the next chapter planned out FOR SO LONG, so hopefully it won't take me too long to write it =) 
> 
> ALSO, My Cubicle Life was nominated for Best Slash! I'm SO EXCITED and it would be absolutely LOVELY if you could go vote for me =) https://docs.google.com/forms/d/1CJxE5PXL0Y88Iab08aKP5JbV2MHNhD-ba_Vjko0sAD0/viewform
> 
> I love you all. Did I say that? Oh, I did. BUT SERIOUSLY. I love you. I hope you enjoyed this chapter andddd I can't wait to show you guys the rest of this story. 
> 
> BYYYYYYYYYE.


	32. Shame On Me

Before I even had a chance to process what was happening, Harry had closed the small gap between us by smashing his lips against mine. I stumbled back slightly from the force alone, but his grip on my hip tightened, steadying me against him as his lips stayed pressed to mine. I’m pretty sure my heart had stopped altogether at this point, the only thing I was able to feel was the different places in which our bodies were connected. 

The moment was over before I could even process what was happening, probably because I was too shocked to even kiss him back, and as he slowly pulled away his eyes cracked open to meet mine. His eyes searched mine for a moment, our harsh pants fanning out across each other’s face. My hands had instinctively come up to grip his biceps when he had surged forward just a few seconds ago, and as we stood here now, staring at each other, I realized just how hard I was gripping onto him. 

“I--” he breathed, but then said nothing else. 

My eyes flicked down to his lips for a split second before looking back up, my fingers digging into his biceps that much more. My mind was racing, not believing that this was happening, but before I could stop myself I leaned forward and reconnected our lips. As soon as our lips connected he moaned into it, bringing his other hand up around the back of my head and pulling me into him further. 

Somehow we had managed to stumble our way inside Harry’s flat, (Which was no easy feat, given the fact he had to unlock the door.)our lips remaining attached the whole time. As soon as the front door slammed shut, he had me pinned against the wall and was pressing up against me. My heart raced, arousal already pooling in the pit of my stomach, forcing myself to stop questioning what was happening and just go with the situation. 

Harry pressed himself up against me, our hips colliding and I could feel him pressing against my thigh. He moaned with the friction of it, my fingers instinctively running up the back of his neck and into his hair. I gripped his curls tight, tugging on them when he licked into my mouth, causing him to let out another groan. 

He pulled away from my lips, trailing kisses down my jaw line until his lips connected with my pulse point. He sucked hard on the skin there, my head falling back against the wall to allow him further access. I untangled my fingers from his hair, running my hands down his shoulders and gripping onto his elbows tight, my nails digging into his skin. 

“Lou,” he groaned, finally releasing my neck and grinding his hips further against mine. “Want you,” he mumbled, kissing back up my neck until our lips collided again. My eyes rolled to the back of my head, my cock throbbing and tenting the front of my trackies, his hips relentless against mine. “Need you,” he said, his lips moving against mine. I hummed, holding on to him for dear life, unable to form words. “Please, Lou, I-- please,” he continued, his hips never faltering from the constant pressure against mine. 

“Yeah,” I choked out. “Come on,” I said, snapping my eyes open and gently pushing him off of me. He was completely flushed, his pupils blown and full of lust, and the smirk that appeared across his lips when I grabbed his hand to pull him down the hallway was one that I knew would be burned into my memory forever. 

We stumbled down the hallway, our feet tripping over each other as we hurried towards his room. Once we stood at the end of his bed, he quickly reached down and grabbed the hem of my shirt, pulling it up and over my head roughly. “God,” he moaned, sliding his hands down my chest and gripping my sides as he kissed down my jaw again. My breath caught in my throat when he began palming me through my trackies; I couldn’t help but rut up against his hand at the much needed friction. 

“Off,” I said, my words coming out between kisses, my fingers pulling at the hem of his shirt. He stood back, reaching behind him and ripping the shirt from his torso. My eyes raked down his front, at his defined ab muscles and to the v of his hips, my cock twitching just from looking at him. I went to move down onto my knees, but he quickly reached out and stopped me. I blinked at him, my lips parted and breathing heavily, confused as to why he stopped me. 

“I-- I um, I want you to…” he paused, his breaths coming out just as heavy as my own. “I want you to… fuck me.” 

I spluttered, my eyes wide, and I had to bring my own hand down to rub against my cock for a moment to relieve the pressure. “You-- are you-- I mean, you… want… okay,” I said, fumbling over my own words, watching as a smirk appeared across his face. Those were the last words I ever expected to hear out of his mouth. It was only when the rest of our clothes were removed and I was straddling his thighs on the bed, that a horrible realization creeped into my mind. “Fuck-- Harry, we need lube; I’ll have to go back next door and--”

“Top drawer,” he said, his cheeks instantly flushing. I raised my eyebrow at him, leaning up some so that I was sitting properly across his thighs, giving him a cheeky expression. “I, um, was… experimenting?” 

“Oh, you were?” I challenged, a toothy grin appearing across my features. “And what exactly did you try?” 

I didn’t think it was possible for him to flush any further, but as soon as the words left my mouth has cheeks tinted a darker shade of pink. I chuckled, watching as he folded his elbows across his face to hide underneath, his hips rutting up against my bum in the process. “--with my fingers,” he mumbled, his words coming out so quiet I almost missed them. 

I reached forward and grasped his forearms, pulling them away from his face and giving him a devilish grin. “Aren’t we feeling feisty,” I mocked, wiggling my eyebrows at him before surging down and capturing his lips again. 

The next few minutes were all a blur to me. My lube-slicked fingers fumbling with the condom package after I had opened him up, his whines as he begged me to hurry, the breath that he sucked in when I finally pushed the head of my cock inside of him. 

“Holy-- fucking hell-- you’re so fucking-- oh god,” I said, my breath catching in my throat and my eyes slamming shut; I had to force myself to think of something, anything other than the relentless heat that was surrounding my cock. Harry whined, a higher pitch than I had ever heard from him before, his blunt fingernails digging into my back. He shifted his hips ever so much, but it was enough for my cock to slip the rest of the way in; my hips pressed right up against him. 

He whined again. 

“Oh-- oh god,” I moaned, “Oh sweet mother fuck!” I exclaimed, desperately trying not to lose my load already. It was too much, too quickly, to be buried inside him the way I was. I forced myself to breathe, to take a large shaky breath in and hold it, my arms trembling from the way I was holding myself up. I looked down at him, at his sweat covered face below me, my hips completely still. If I didn’t move soon I was sure I would literally die. “Are you-- how’re you-- fuck,” I groaned, squeezing my eyes shut tight. “Are you okay?” I finally managed. 

Silence washed over us for a quick moment, and when he didn’t respond I finally forced my eyes open and blinked back down at him. He had his bottom lip sucked into his mouth, his eyes wide and blinking back at me; then suddenly he began laughing. He threw his head back deeper into the pillow, loud cackles coming out of his lungs. I opened my mouth to say something, more confused than I’ve ever been in my life. 

“You’re--” he laughed, his eyes still squeezed tight. “You’re fucking splitting me in two!” 

A dry chuckle left my lungs, never seen anybody react the way he was, and I tried desperately to keep my hips still so I wouldn’t hurt him any further. The muscles in my arms began to ache from holding myself up for so long, and as he continued to laugh hysterically (Emphasis on _hysterically_ ) I swore he was going to be the reason for my early death. 

“--Like a horse!” he said, his words coming out muffled and in between his cackles. 

“Wh-- what?” I choked out, missing the first part of his sentence completely. 

His eyes snapped open, his mouth still hung open from his laughter. “You’re hung like a goddamn horse!” Before I could stop myself, I chuckled. My cock was completely buried in Harry’s arse and his only reaction was to laugh hysterically. What the fuck was wrong with Harry Styles? “Hey, Lou; what’s the easiest way to mail a small horse?” 

“Um,” I said, around my heavy breathing, blinking wildly at him. 

“The _pony_ express.” 

I narrowed my eyes at him, then shut him up by thrusting my hips hard into him. He spluttered, the toothy grin disappearing off his face and being replaced by lust. I pulled out about halfway before easing my cock back into him, watching his face for any signs of discomfort. I held my hips still, buried completely inside of him, my eyes searching his. 

“Fuck,” he moaned, threading his hands into my hair and roughly pulling me down for a kiss.

 

* * *

I stared at the ceiling, hyper aware of Harry’s hand across my abdomen, my heart still pounding hard in my chest. I swallowed the lump in the back of my throat, listening to Harry’s breathing beside me, my mind racing with everything that just happened. Everything had escalated so quickly; an hour ago we were standing in the hallway, where we were supposed to part ways, and then we had ended up having sex. 

I bit down on the inside of my cheek hard, sadness suddenly washing over me. 

This was just sex. 

This was all just sex. 

This didn’t _mean_ anything. 

At least that’s what I was going to tell myself. 

When Harry suddenly moved I whipped my head over, watching as he sat up straight and ran a hand through his disheveled curls. I swallowed again, my breath seeming to catch in my throat as I let my eyes travel down his naked form. He snuffled once, letting his hands drop down onto his lap before he looked over at me. 

“I want ice cream,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows at me. 

I felt like my heart shattered into a million pieces all over again. I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t just sit here, in his bed, and pretend like everything was okay again when it clearly wasn’t. We hadn’t talked things through; talked about what all that had happened. We hadn’t even talked about _what had just happened_ , let alone all of the stuff from the past. 

Things _weren’t_ fixed between us. 

This changed _nothing._

Simple as that. 

I forced myself to sit up, “I’m actually going to, um… go.” 

“What?” he said, his jaw dropping slightly. 

“I-- um, I need to go.” I swung my legs over the side of the bed, quickly grabbing my boxers from the floor and slipping my legs through them before I stood, pulling them up around my hips before retrieving my discarded trackies. 

“You can’t be serious.” 

“I-- I need to check on Niall,” I said, blatantly turning my back to him as I searched for my missing shirt, my hands beginning to shake against my will. 

“Bullshit,” Harry said, causing me to freeze, my shirt clutched tightly in my hands and my back still turned to him. “His mum is there!” 

I sighed, shaking myself from the situation and pulling the shirt over my bare chest. “You don’t get it,” I murmured, keeping my back to him still as I reached down to snatch up my shoes. 

“So _make_ me get it.” 

“No.” I shook my head, finally turning back around to face him. At some point he had pulled on a pair of trackies, but his torso remained bare. I gulped, averting my eyes away from him and looking down to the floor. “This--” I paused, momentarily debating on whether or not I was actually going to say my next words aloud, before looking back up at him. “This was just sex.” 

I watched as his expression fell, his mouth turning down into a frown. The room fell silent, _way_ too silent, and it made me realize how loud my heart was pounding in my ears. I couldn’t help but regret putting it that way, especially when I realized how hurt he looked now, but I knew I was doing what was best for me. 

I couldn’t go down this road again. 

I couldn’t let him hurt me again. 

Fool me once, shame on you. 

Fool me twice, shame on me. 

I realized after another few moments of terrible silence that he wasn’t going to say anything; and honestly, that was probably for the best. I nodded to myself, knowing that I had to walk past him now, and as I did I found myself saying a very familiar phrase in our relationship. “Bye, Harry.” I paused in front of him, waiting to see if he was going to do or say anything else, but he kept his gaze fixed on the floor. 

I forced my feet to move and gripped the door knob, pulling the door open and sliding out into the hallway. My barefeet padded against the wood floor, my shoes clutched tightly to my chest as I headed towards the front door, tears welling behind my eyes, wondering how my life had ended up this way.

A few months ago, my life was painfully simple. I would sit in my cubicle at work, mindlessly going through the motions of my pathetic 9-5 job, and then would come home every night to Niall. We would laugh about things, eat junk food all the time, then the day would start over. Now suddenly my life was too dramatic for my liking. 

Everything was fucked up. 

_I_ was fucked up. 

_Harry_ was fucked up. 

Looking back, I would choose my cubicle life over this fucked up situation any day. Before Harry came in and ruined everything. Before I was constantly fighting back the urge to cry; back when it was just me and Niall. When the only thing I had to worry about was whether or not my television shows recorded on the DVR that day. 

“Louis, stop!” Harry yelled, startling me as I had reached out for the front door. My heart picked up again, my eyes blinking wildly at the door, not expecting Harry to follow me at all. I looked over my shoulder as Harry rounded the corner, the deep frown still on his face and his eyes sad. “Don’t leave.” 

“I-- I have to, Harry.” 

“ _Please_ don’t leave.” 

I let go of the doorknob, turning around to face him properly and narrowing my eyes at him, a sudden wave of rage washing over me. “Why do you keep doing this to me!” I exclaimed. “Why can’t you just let me get over you?!” He looked taken back, fish mouthing at me a few times before snapping his jaw shut. “This was just sex, Harry! To you _and_ me! Don’t make this into something it’s never going to be!” 

“I--” 

“No! This isn’t up for discussion! Not this time.” 

“Not this time?” he gaped, “we never discuss _anything!_ ” 

“Exactly! And it should stay that way!” 

“Louis, I--” he started, but quickly cut himself off. He closed his eyes, shaking his head for a moment before bringing his hands up to his curls and tugging on them. “I don’t want you to go,” he mumbled, avoiding my eyes by staring at the floor. 

I laughed. 

He looked up, frowning at me again as his hands dropped back down to his sides. “I want you to stay,” he whispered. 

“You just don’t get it,” I said, shaking my head. “You’ll never get it. You’ll never see what the fuck you do to me.” 

“So _make me get it._ ” 

“You always do this. You always say things like-- like _don’t go_ or _stay._ You make me _believe_ that we could be more. You _pretend_ \--” I threw my arms out to the side. “To be in a relationship with me-- because we both know that was a joke-- but then you freak out and say you never wanted to be with me in the first place! This isn’t fair, Harry! You can’t keep fucking with me like this! Just let me go!” My words came out rushed, not even giving myself time to fully process my thoughts before the words were spewing past my lips. 

He blinked at me, completely speechless.

“How am I ever supposed to get over you if you’re _constantly_ showing back up in my life?!” I exclaimed, panting hard once the words left my mouth and staring at him hard. 

He pointed at me, “ _You_ called _me._ ” 

His words stung, causing me to audibly wince. I stared at him, my lips parted, and I watched as he shut his eyes for a moment before shaking his head. I took a step back from him, my back running into the door behind me, and I leaned my weight against it because I felt like I was going to fall over. I watched as he brought his hands back up to his hair, running his fingers through his curls again as his eyes avoided mine. 

I felt like time had stopped. 

The only sounds in the room was our heavy breathing. 

“You’re right,” I choked out. “I did call you. And-- and I shouldn’t have.” 

Silence. 

“And I’m sorry that I did,” I continued, my tone barely above a whisper, my heart breaking all over again. He wrapped his arms low around his bare stomach, his bottom lip caught between his teeth as he stared down at the floor, the silence washing back over us. I took a shaky breath in, willing all of my emotions away, reaching behind me with a shaking hand to grab onto the door knob. “It won’t happen again.” 

The silence was deafening. 

I took one last look at him, at how defeated he looked, before forcing myself to pull the door open and slip out into the hallway. I closed the door behind me, taking another second to lean against it when I felt like I was going to fall over. I didn’t know how many times my heart was able to break until it stopped altogether, but I knew it had to be on it’s last life now. 

I pushed off the door, making the few steps across the hall to my flat. I numbly reached into my pockets and grabbed the keys before slipping inside, letting my shoes drop onto the floor and twisting the lock behind me. I could hear the telly playing quietly in the living room and the smell of a homecooked meal still filled the air, but I wanted nothing to do with any of it. 

“Oh, you’re back,” Maura said, smiling at me when I stepped around the corner. “I made you a plate, were you hungry?” 

“Not really,” I said, my tone quiet and trying desperately to keep all of my impending emotions away. 

She frowned, “What’s wrong, dear?” 

“Nothing.” I forced a smile onto my face, “Everything’s fine.” 

Still frowning, she tilted her head to the side and asked, “You’re sure?” 

“Yup,” I lied, the forced smile still across my features. “I’m just gonna go, um… take a shower,” I said, swallowing the lump in the back of my throat. 

She smiled weakly at me, then nodded. “I’ll keep your plate in the oven if you get hungry later.”

 

* * *

I laid awake later that night on the couch, since I had insisted that Niall’s mum take my room, laying flat on my back and staring up at the ceiling. The flat was silent, everyone else asleep, and the only light in the room was coming from the cracks in the blinds that covered the balcony door. I kept replaying the scene that had taken place earlier over and over again in my head, unable to stop myself from cringing every time. 

I found myself wishing that I had a neuralyzer from Men in Black; that Will Smith would suddenly show up at my door and erase all the memories that I had with Harry. If we had never met, I wouldn’t be as heart broken as I was right now. 

As I have been for the past few months. 

Right when I was finally getting over Harry, he was back in my life, reminding of just how shitty everything truly was. 

I rolled over onto my side, curling my legs up towards my chest and readjusting the throw blanket that was sprawled across me. I curled my arm up underneath my head and snuffled quietly to myself, squinting at the clock across the room to see that it was half three in the morning. I let a long puff of air leave my lungs, my eyes falling shut, trying to will myself to sleep. 

Even if I fell asleep right now, I would only have three hours before my alarm went off for work. 

Life _sucks._

I laid there for a few more minutes, images of Harry still flashing behind my closed eyes, when I heard a door open from the hallway. Figuring that it must be Niall’s mum getting up to use the washroom, I made no moves to get up and instead started counting backwards from a hundred; a sleep tactic that had _never_ worked for me, but I tried anyway. 

When I was down to seventy three, my ears perked up when I heard slow footsteps, followed by a tinking sound. I stopped counting, lifting my head up to peer over at the hallway, trying to figure out what was happening. I stared at the dark hallway for another few seconds before Niall’s crutches finally came into view, Niall slowly appearing afterwards. My eyes widened slightly, quickly ripping the blanket off of me and jumping up. 

“Niall?” I called, making the few quick steps to towards him. He looked up at me, panting hard and a pained expression on his face. “What’re you doing out of bed? You shouldn’t be walking around!” I exclaimed, stepping up to his side to help him the rest of the way. He handed me one of his crutches, then draped that arm around my shoulder as I nodded towards the living room. 

“I’m hungry,” he said, in between the sharp puffs of air escaping his lungs. “And I couldn’t sleep because-- ow! Fucker! Watch the leg! --because my stomach was growling,” he explained. I rolled my eyes, gently taking the other crutch from him and easing him down onto the couch. I leaned over and clicked on the table lamp, the light not even bright enough to spread throughout the whole room. 

“Well you should have just yelled for me,” I said, leaning his crutches up against the side table and narrowing my eyes at him. “You didn’t have to try and super-hero your way out here.” 

He rolled his eyes, “Piss off.” I watched as he went to hoist his broken leg up onto the coffee table and I quickly reached forward to help him. “I got it, I got it,” he said, swatting at my hand. I took a step back, frowning deeply at him, and after he finally got his leg propped he leaned back into the couch and looked over at me. “I’m not a fuckin’ damsel in distress, you shit.” 

“Oh really?” I challenged, giving him a pointed look. “So I’m assuming you’re bout to hop up and fix your _self_ somethin’ to eat then, yeah?” 

His eyes searched mine for a second, flicking back and forth between my eyes and the kitchen behind me, before he finally groaned loudly and let his head fall back against the couch, his eyes squeezing shut instantly. A moment of silence passed before he sighed loudly, “Lewis?” 

I grinned, even though he couldn’t see it. “Yes, Neil?” 

He sighed again, a bit dramatically if you ask me, before he continued. “Will you make me something to eat?” 

“Of course!” I beamed, “What would you like? Egg sandwich? Cheese toasty? Something-involving-toast-because-I-can-actually-make-that?” I asked, my words jumbling together at the end. A dry chuckle left his lungs before he opened his eyes and looked back up at me, shrugging slightly. 

“Both?” 

“Egg sandwich _and_ a cheese toasty?” I raised my eyebrow at him. He smiled sheepishly and nodded. “But, you just ate dinner a few hours ago! How could you possibly be--” I cut myself off when I saw him frown at me. I sighed, “Okay. Both it is.” He grinned at me before letting his head drop back down against the couch. 

I turned around and headed into the kitchen, the smile I had plastered on my face dropping as soon as I was out of his eye shot. I busied myself by getting the ingredients I would need for his sandwiches, but my mind quickly went back to my previous thoughts of Harry. I felt like I could still feel his touch against my skin. 

I shivered, unable to stop myself, trying to shake my head of my thoughts. I gripped the edge of the counter, letting my head fall between my shoulder blades and squeezing my eyes shut, focusing on breathing in and out a few times before popping my eyes back open and forcing myself to keep going. 

Focus on the sandwiches. 

When I was finally done preparing his food, I made my way back into the living room; the plate full of greasy sandwiches in my left hand, a mug full of steaming tea in my right. He was still sitting in the same position from when I left, except his eyes were open now and he was blinking up at the ceiling. When he heard my footsteps getting closer to him he rolled his head over to the side and smiled at me. 

“You beautiful son-of-a-bitch, you,” he said, grinning from ear to ear and making grabby hands for the plate. I smiled back at him, handing him the plate and then gently setting the mug down on the table in front of him. I slinked down onto the couch next to him, my left leg curled up tight to my stomach and my right leg still on the floor. I wrapped my arm around my bent knee and rested my chin on it, watching as he eagerly picked up the first sandwich and took a large bite. 

We sat in silence for a few moments, the room still barely lit up, and it wasn’t until he only had a few bites left of sandwich number one that he looked over at me. He eyed me up and down once, took another bite of his sandwich, and then with a full mouth asked, “What?” 

“Hmm?” I hummed, then shook my head, my chin scraping across my knee. “Nothing.” 

He rolled his eyes, “Just come out with it.” He popped the last bit in his mouth and then looked at me expectantly, chewing loudly as he waited for me to say something else. 

“Don’t worry about it,” I whispered, forcing a smile onto my face.

He rolled his eyes, picking up sandwich number two and taking a bite before looking back over at me, “Shu got tha’ Harreh face.” 

I blinked. 

He swallowed, “You got that Harry face.” I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion at him. “That same look you’ve had on your face for the past few months,” he explained, shoving his mouth full of sandwich afterwards. “So what’d he do this time?” he asked, a piece of chewed up crust flying out of his mouth and landing directly onto my bare foot. 

I frowned, picking up the piece of soggy toast with my fingertips and dropping it back on his plate. I wiped my foot off with the heel of my hand before continuing, “I--” I paused, trying to form the right words in my head. “Well, he, um… I mean, I…” I sighed loudly, realizing there was no way of saying it without being blunt. “I fucked him.” 

Niall spluttered, choking on his food and going into a coughing fit. I sat up straighter, slapping him on the back three times in a row. (Because that’s what you do when somebody’s choking.) He set his plate down in his lap, wiping his mouth off with his forearm before turning his attention over at me. “You _what?!_ ” 

“Yeah.” 

“How the-- how the fuck did that happen?” 

“Well, I mean, there was a lot of lube involved and my fing--” 

“No, you _twat_ , I mean-- I thought you said you weren’t back together.” 

“We aren’t.” 

“But you fucked him.” 

“Yeah.” 

“He let you fuck him.” 

“He asked me to.” 

“I--” he paused, biting the corner of his mouth for a second before letting out a long puff of air. “I’m confused.” 

I sighed, “So am I.” We sat in silence for another few seconds before he returned to his sandwich. I pulled my knee back up onto the couch so I was sitting in the same position I was before, resting my chin on my kneecap and watching as Niall continued to eat. 

“So,” he began, sandwich hovered in front of his mouth. “Shouldn’t you be happy that you got laid?” 

I shook my head, “Not really.” 

“I mean, gettin’ ass is gettin’ ass-- HA! Literally in your case! --so does it really _matter_ who it’s with?” 

“Yes it matters,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Things are too complicated with Harry; things are _always_ too complicated with him. What the bloody hell is this all supposed to even _mean?”_

He shrugged, then with a mouth full of food said, “It doesn’t _have_ to mean anything.” 

“That’s what I told him.” I sighed, shaking my head and leaning back into the couch, my bent leg falling to the side and landing against Niall’s hip. “But then he got mad, and-- and I don’t know.” 

“Mad how?” 

“Mad that I was leaving. He asked me not to.” 

“But you left anyway.” 

“Obviously.” 

“Why?” 

“Because, Niall,” I groaned. “Nobody can think properly right after an orgasm. He didn’t _really_ want me to stay.” 

Niall popped the last bit of sandwich in his mouth before placing the plate down in between us on the couch. He held his eye contact with me as he chewed, then once he had swallowed he finally said, “Maybe he did.” 

“Can you please make up your mind?” I groaned loudly, running my fingers through my messy fringe. “One minute you’re punching Harry out and tellin’ me how much you hate him; then the next minute you’re telling me that maybe he still cares? Who’s side are you on?!” 

“I’m on _your_ side, you knob.” He rolled his eyes, “I still think the guy is a right prick. But… maybe he’s had a change of heart? Realized that _gay_ was _the way_.” I narrowed my eyes at him, he chuckled before he continued. “Alls I’m sayin’ is that maybe--” he paused mid-sentence when a loud knock echoed through the flat. “I’ll betcha fifty quid that’s Harry.” 

I sighed. 

We were going in circles. 

He _always_ showed up at our flat after one of our fights. I wasn’t even surprised this time. 

I went to stand up but before I could make my way to the door, Niall’s fingers clasped around my forearm and pulled me back towards him. I raised both of my eyebrows at him, waiting for him to say what was clearly on the tip of his tongue. “If that fucker throws eggs at you again, I’m beatin’ him senseless with my crutches, got it?” 

I chuckled, patting his hand and agreeing before heading towards the front door. Whatever trace of a smile that was left on my face quickly disappeared though as I rounded the corner, pausing to take a deep breath in before slowly cracking the door open. To no surprise, Harry stood on the other side, the same baggy trackies hanging from his hips and a white v neck over his chest, a deep frown set on his face. 

“Harry, I think--” 

“Lou, just stop,” he said, shaking his head with his eyes locked onto mine. “Can you just… just hear me out for a minute?” 

“Harry.” I sighed, “You can’t just show up here like this anymore. I-- I have nothing left to say to you.”

“You don’t have to say anything,” he said, holding his palms out to face me. “Just listen. Two seconds. Please.” 

I sighed again, kicking one of the shoes that was laying around into the door jam to keep it propped open before stepping out onto the cold concrete. I crossed my arms over my chest, the cold already causing goosebumps to raise onto my skin, and stared down hard at my feet as I waited for him to say whatever it was that he wanted. Silence washed over us, and as the moments ticked by I furrowed my eyes towards the ground. 

Why wasn’t he talking? 

I finally looked up, only to find him staring at me, that same deep frown across his lips. 

“...Well?” I asked. 

“I--” he paused, “I… didn’t expect you to actually… hear me out.” I blinked at him. “I… um, well, I…” 

“Harry, this is ridiculous.” I shook my head, “Please just leave me alone.” I took a step back, pressing the door open with my hip but he was quick to reach out and stop me. 

“Wait, no, don’t go,” he said, his words coming out frantic. I looked down, at where his fingers were still wrapped around my arm, forcing myself to breathe. I watched as his thumb swiped along my forearm, my legs already shaking. “I… I never got over you, Lou,” he whispered. 

“Please don’t do this.” I whispered back, squeezing my eyes shut as his words punched me in the gut. 

“Do what?” he asked, gently trying to tug me closer to him but I kept my feet grounded. I opened my eyes, staring down hard at the ground, listening to his breathing. He braced his other palm against the door frame, his arm close enough to me that I could feel the heat radiating off onto my cheek, his fingers still wrapped around my forearm. 

“Please just let me go,” I whispered, my voice cracking on the last word. 

“I can’t.” 

“Why not?” I mumbled. 

“Look at me,” he whispered, but I quickly shook my head no. He let go of my arm, moving his palm up to cup my cheek instead and I audibly winced. “Lou,” he whispered, stroking his thumb along my jawline. “Please look at me.” I inhaled deeply through my nose, trying to calm myself down before slowly flicking my eyes up to meet his. “I know I don’t deserve it,” he whispered, “but… I’m asking you to give me another chance.” 

“I can’t do that.” 

“I know I hurt you,” he continued, completely unphased by my response. “I know the things I said are… unforgivable. But I miss you, Lou…” he whispered, his thumb still gently stroking my cheek. I squeezed my eyes shut, biting down hard on my bottom lip. “I’ve missed you every minute since you left. I should have chased after you that day, babe, but I--” 

“Don’t call me that,” I choked out, my eyes still shut to avoid his gaze. 

“Lou--” 

“Stop,” I squeaked, my voice shaking as I opened my eyes back up. 

“One more chance,” he whispered, smiling weakly at me. “I just need one more chance. I promise I won’t let you down,” he said, his eyes burning into mine. 

“You already have let me down,” I said, my lip quivering as I tried desperately to hold back my emotions. 

He winced, “I know I did. I have no excuse for it… I just-- I needed time and I-- god, Lou, these past few months have been so _fucking_ horrible--” 

“Don’t try and guilt me,” I said, trying desperately to sound strong but my words coming out weak and shaky. 

“I’m not trying to guilt you.” He shook his head, “Fuck, Louis, don’t you see?” 

“See what?” 

“I--” He cut himself off, his jaw hanging open slightly for a moment before he quickly recovered. “I _care_ about you a lot. So much. So. Very. Much,” he said, emphasizing his last words, gripping my hip tightly with his hand that had been on my cheek. Time seemed to stand still as I watched him, with wide eyes, leaning forward to capture me in another kiss. His eyes remained locked on mine and our lips were only a few centimeters apart from each other; but right before they collided, I quickly snapped my head to the side, causing his lips to connect with my cheek instead. 

“I can’t,” I choked out, bringing my hand down and gripping his wrist, easing it away from my hip before gently pushing him away from me. My heart was in the middle of shattering when I continued, “I just can’t, Harry. I can’t do this again.” His broken expression was one that I knew would be locked away in the back of my mind for the rest of my life, and as I slipped away from him completely and pushed the door open, he did nothing to stop me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiiiiiiiii everybody! 
> 
> So, I've been staring at this screen for the last 10 minutes trying to figure out what to say to you all. I feel so incredibly AWFUL that it took me this long to update. You all have been so amazing, despite the CRAZY LONG WAIT, and I'm really just overwhelmed by your support! I know I've said that a million times, but really, I don't think I would have ever been able to finish this story without you guys cheering me on the entire way! As for why it took me this long to update... well, I mean, life is life, right? It gets in the way of things you ACTUALLY want to do. 
> 
> But, I'm here! I'm back! I'm ready to finish this story and then die a million times on the inside because it's over. I know this chapter is... probably not how you all wanted it to go, but... there's one more! I promise that everything will get wrapped up in the last chapter. It may seem like it's not POSSIBLE to wrap everything up with only one chapter left... but... I have a plan. So. There's that. 
> 
> **Going back to how much I love you all, I HAVE to give a shoutout to these AMAZING people: Lollycoops, BeautifulPeopleLarry, Toni, CupcakesAndSass, 1DFan, 1Ddreamlove, larrystylinstrong, sherivw, LO_LA, Teddy, LarryLouHarry, Pumpkindiddle, my fantastic wife LouisLoves, Yennsy, ILoveLou, fanfics_world, alex, pip, micheleyo and my wonderful Entice. So many of you have been here from the very beginning and it makes me feel all warm and fluttery just thinking about how much I love you all!**
> 
> I'd like to say it won't take me 3 weeks to post the last chapter, but... at the same time, I don't want to make any promises to you guys that I'll just have to break =( I'm writing as much as I can, I can promise you that! And I will try very very very hard to get the last chapter out within a reasonable amount of time! 
> 
> I love every single one of you with all of my heart! 
> 
> Thank you again! 
> 
> Byyyyyyyyyye!


	33. Everything I Didn't Say

It had been two days. 

I had lost count of how many days it had technically been since my Post-Harry Apocalypse began, but I think the ticker would have had to be restarted now anyway, meaning it was now day two. It was Friday, and after numbly sitting at my desk for two days, I was ready to mope all weekend. 

After all, I was having to get over Harry _all over again._

I made my way into the flat around half six, my brain ready to turn off completely until Monday. Niall, who had another week to sit around and recover before having to go back to work, was sitting on the couch with a beer in one hand, the remote gripped tightly in the other. I sat my briefcase down on the table, then laid my suit jacket of the back of one of the chairs before making my way into the living room. 

“You shouldn’t be drinking,” I mumbled, loosening my tie far enough that I could slip it over my head. 

“Bite me,” Niall replied, rolling his eyes as he continued flipping through the channels. 

“It says so on your medicine bottle,” I continued, “in big bold letters. _**Do Not Take With Alcohol.**_ Period, and about three underlines.” 

“It does not.” 

“Well, maybe not the underlines,” I said, unbuttoning my work shirt and peeling it away from my torso, leaving me in a plain white tee. “But it definitely says not to drink.” 

“Jesus Christ; me mum just left but yet it’s like she’s _still_ here.” 

I frowned. “What is it with people comparing me to their mum?” 

“You have a vagina.” Niall shrugged, shooting me a grin before looking back at the telly. 

“Whatever,” I said, rolling my eyes before heading off to my room to change into something more comfortable. When I returned a few minutes later, glad to be out of my trousers and into footy shorts, I made my way past Niall and into the kitchen. “You at least left me some, yeah?” I asked, opening the fridge and peering into it. 

“I’m nothing but a gentleman!” Niall yelled from the living room. I chuckled quietly, reaching into the back to grab one of the bottles before hip-checking the door closed. I popped the bottle top off on the edge of the counter and leaned against it, taking a long sip of the cold beverage. I crossed my arms over my chest, letting my chin drop and my eyes fall shut, ready to drown my sorrows in alcohol for the rest of the night. 

_”One more chance. I just need one more chance.”_

I squeezed my eyes shut tightly, Harry’s words playing over again in my head for about the hundredth time today. I kept replaying everything in my head: him kissing me in the hallway, his bedroom, asking me to give him another chance. Every time I let myself think that _maybe_ he was being sincere, I got horrible flashbacks from before--the conversation I overheard with Gemma, our break-up on his street back in Cheshire. 

No matter how sweet he could be, it would always come down to the same thing. 

He wasn’t in it for the long run. 

This relationship didn’t mean the same thing to him as it did for me. 

I would always be some… _experiment_ to him. I was the first relationship (if you could call it that) that he’s had since The Accident. Not only was I clearly a rebound for him, but I was a _guy._ Up until our thing started, Harry had lived his whole life a straight man. I knew it was too much for him, I must have known it all along deep down inside: we were doomed from the start. 

We wouldn’t work. 

But that didn’t mean I was going to be happy-go-lucky Louis afterwards. 

I forced my eyes back open, taking in a deep breath and holding it for a moment before letting it out. I pushed off the island and snatched up a bag of crisps, then headed out into the living room to join Niall. I sat down wordlessly at the other end of the couch, resting my beer in between my thighs as I unrolled the bag of crisps, then propped my feet up next to Niall’s on the coffee table and dug my hand inside the bag. 

I leaned back into the couch, numbly munching on the salty crisps and blinking mindlessly at the telly. Without looking over, I extended the bag out towards Niall and wordlessly offered him some. He dug a handful of crisps out and then began chewing them obnoxiously loud. 

“So,” he said, and I could feel his eyes on me even though I wasn’t looking over. “How was your day, honey?” 

I shrugged, bringing the bag back over to my lap and taking a swig of my beer. 

“How’s everyone at the office?” 

I shrugged again, popping a crisp in my mouth and silently chewing it. 

“Has Barnes dropped dead yet?” 

I shook my head no, crossing one ankle over the other and scooting down further on the couch cushion. There was a few beats of silence between us before he continued, “I expect a huge _welcome back_ party when I return to work, so spread the word.” I hummed once as a response, grabbing another handful of crisps and tilting my head back to drop them all into my mouth. “I mean, I expect these fuckers to go all out. Cake, ice cream, a banner that says Welcome Back Niall--everything!” 

“I wouldn’t hold my breath,” I said around a mouthful of crisps. 

“Tables full of food,” he continued, unphased. “Those stupid fuckin’ party hats, maybe an oil painting of me hung in the lobby.” 

I snorted. 

“Maybe they could even dedicate the building to me. With a big plaque and everything.” 

“You got into a car accident.” I rolled my eyes. “You didn’t save children from a burning building.” 

“Fuck off,” he groaned, reaching over to snatch the bag out of my lap and moving it over to his. “Ya think that Emily from the third floor will give me a pity lap dance?” 

“Don’t you have a girlfriend?” I challenged, my voice monotone as I took another sip of my beer. 

“I didn’t say I was gon’ fuck her,” he replied. “Daddy can look. Daddy just can’t touch.” 

I grimaced. “Please don’t _ever_ refer to yourself as daddy.” 

“Sorry,” he laughed, “I forgot that _you_ were daddy. _Daddy._ ” 

“Piss off,” I laughed, though the smile quickly vanished from my face; even Niall’s banter was unable to bring me out of the mood I was currently in. I blindly reached out and snatched the bag of crisps from him, returning them to my lap and digging my hand inside. I let a long puff of air leave my lungs, my body feeling like it was deflating with it, and after I had finished chewing the large handful of crisps, I took a large gulp of my beer. 

“So I was reading the paper this morning--” 

“You were what?” I cut him off, turning my head to raise an eyebrow at him. 

“Fuck you, I know how to read.” He glared, leaning over to snatch the bag away from me again. 

I rolled my eyes. “Go on.” 

“And there was a story about this guy that stands out on the street in downtown London,” Niall continued, as I readjusted my position on the couch to get more comfortable. I brought my beer back up to my lips as his story progressed. “And he dresses up like Elmo, right? But he fuckin’ gets mad and like, attacks people if they ask him _why_ he’s dressed up like Elmo!” 

“Oh,” I mused, a dry chuckle leaving my lungs. 

“How does this motherfucker expect to dress up like a goddamn Sesame Street character and _not_ be questioned about it!?” he exclaimed. I shrugged, my eyes fixated on the advert that was currently playing as I reached over and dug out a handful of crisps from the bag that was pinned between Niall’s thighs. “Elmo says,” he began, doing a horrible impersonation of Elmo, “you should be locked up in a psych-ward!” 

I huffed, not even able to force another laugh to rise from my lungs, bringing the bottle back up to my lips and taking another long gulp. We sat in silence for a few moments after that, me reaching over every once in a while to grab so crisps, silently sipping our beers as we kept our eyes on the telly screen. It wasn’t until after Niall sighed dramatically that he spoke up again. “I’m so fuckin’ over Curly.” 

“What?” I asked, looking over at him with a raised eyebrow, his statement catching me off guard. 

“That’s what’s got you in such a mood, innit?” he challenged, rolling his head over to meet my gaze. 

I sighed, shifting my head back over to numbly blink at the telly before responding, “I guess so.” Another few moments of silence passed afterwards before I let my head fall back against the cushion and blinked up at the ceiling. “I don’t know why, but I can’t just… get over him,” I mumbled, my tone no louder than a whisper. 

Niall sighed, “I know.” 

“I think… I think I love him.” I gulped; it was the first time I had ever said it aloud. 

“I know you do,” Niall whispered. 

“I know you don’t understand,” I began, shaking my head slightly. “And I know you think I’m an absolute _nutter_ for loving him, but I--” 

“Lou,” Niall interrupted, causing me to roll my head over to the side to look at him. He rolled his eyes. “Can you do me a favor?” 

“Um.” I paused. “Sure?” 

“There’s a box on the top shelf of my closet,” he said, nodding his head in the general direction of his room. “Go get it for me, will you?” I fish-mouthed at him for a moment, blinking in confusion, wondering why he would interrupt me trying to have a heart-to-heart with him to do some chore. Sensing that I wasn’t going to respond, he rolled his eyes again and said, “Well I can’t go get it me self, can I?” He gestured wildly to his broken leg. 

“I--um.” I let a puff of air out of my lungs before slowly nodding. “Okay then.” I stood up from the couch, still confused as ever, before slowly making my way down the hallway. I shouldered open his bedroom door, then stepped over the different piles of stuff that was around his room to get to his closet. I kicked the shoes blocking the door out of the way before opening the closet, biting the inside of my cheek as I looked around. Then my eyes landed on a plain brown parcel box. 

Its corners folded over themselves to keep it closed. I stood on my tiptoes to grab the box and then headed back out to the living room. I set the box down on his lap before collapsing back onto the couch. “You ruined the moment, you know,” I said. 

“Oh, piss off,” he laughed quietly. “This box is for you.” 

I looked over at him, raising a questioning eyebrow. “For me?” 

“Yes, stupid. For you.” He thrusted the box back in my direction, only furthering my confusion. I looked down at the small box in my hands, biting down on the inside of my lip, before looking back over at him. “Go on then. Open it.” 

I nodded, unfolding the different corners of the box until they flipped open. I stared at the contents, my expression softening when I started to put two and two together. I hesitantly reached into the box and picked up the balled-up shirt, balancing the box on my knees as I shook the shirt out, only to be met with Harry’s Rolling Stones shirt. 

“I…” I trailed off, swallowing the lump in the back of my throat. “I threw this away?” 

“Yes,” Niall agreed, nodding his head when I looked over at him. “You did. But I un-threw it away.” 

“Why?” I asked, another puff of air leaving my lungs. 

“Because, you fuckhead.” He rolled his eyes. “You were piss drunk! I knew you would want it, or need it, someday.” 

“Right.” I laughed once. “Because everybody’s in need of a Stones tshirt.” 

“You’re being a fucking knob.” Niall glared at me. “I knew when I found the _disaster_ of a kitchen that morning that you didn’t really _want_ to throw all that shit away; you were just, I don’t know, mad.” He shrugged, nodding his head towards the rest of the box. I gulped before setting the shirt down next to me, looking at the rest of the items that had been tossed in the box that I had thrown away that night. 

“I can’t believe you saved all this stuff,” I whispered, my heart pounding in my chest. 

“Don’t get sappy,” Niall snapped, laughing loudly to himself afterwards. “Look, Lou. I don’t fuckin’ like the guy, alright? And I’m still _incredibly_ mad at him for what the fuck he put you through, and I also think you’re making a _horrible_ choice…” He paused, and I looked over at him while biting back my grin. _”But,”_ he continued, “I _know_ you love him and I know you _loved him back then_ and that one day you’d _want_ all this stupid shit--this stupid Lion King shit that I’ll never understand--because you’re a complete sap who is sentimental like that--” 

“Fuck you,” I said, grinning widely now. 

“So when I was cleaning up your rampage that night and found all this _stupid_ shit in the bin I--I don’t know. I couldn’t bring myself to throw it away. So, like, whatever. I kept it.” 

“You kept it,” I repeated, my cheeks burning from how hard I was grinning at him. 

“Obviously.” He rolled his eyes. 

“You made me a Harry Box.” 

“Are you gonna cry about it?” he taunted, raising an eyebrow at me. 

“I might. I’m a sap, remember?” 

“Whatever,” he laughed. “Go on, then.” 

“Go… where?” I asked, the grin disappearing from my features. 

“Go get your man. Or, you know, whatever it is you people do.” 

I chewed on the inside of my lip again, staring back down at the box on my lap, looking at all the things I thought were long gone. I placed the shirt back in the box and calmly moved it aside, then lunged towards Niall and wrapped my arms tightly around his neck. “You’re the sweetest person in the _world_!” I cried, placing a smacking kiss to his cheek as he groaned from underneath. 

“Watch the fuckin’ leg!” 

“You’re so _caring_ and _thoughtful_ and--and you made me a Harry Box!” I declared, burrowing my nose into the crook of his neck, my body in an extremely awkward position to try and avoid putting any pressure on his injured leg. 

“Get the hell off!” he cried, though he was laughing loudly along with it, his hands slapping at my back roughly. I squeezed him once more, followed by another wet kiss to his cheek, before pushing myself off of him. My hands were still braced on the cushion behind him so that I was hovered over him. 

“ _I love you_ , you know that?” I beamed. 

He rolled his eyes. “Please save your overly affectionate gay love for Harry, wouldja?” 

“Right.” I nodded, shoving off the back of the couch and standing. I tugged at the hem of my shirt, smoothing out my clothes from where they had wrinkled, before running my fingers through my fringe. “How do I look?” I asked, looking at Niall expectantly. 

“I’d hit it.” 

I rolled my eyes at Niall and quickly walked towards the front door, before I lost my courage. 

I stood outside Harry’s door, feeling like all the blood had suddenly drained from my body. What was I doing? I bit down hard on the inside of my cheek. My hand hovered in front of the door, and I reminded myself to breathe before finally knocking. I stepped back, folding my hands together in front of me, chewing so hard on my lip that I must have drawn blood. 

Finally, after what felt like forever, the door opened to a shocked looking Harry. 

“Lou?” His jaw hung open a bit, giving off the impression that I was the last person he ever expected to see. “What’s wrong? Are you okay? 

“Huh? Yes, yes I’m fine,” I said, shaking my head a bit. “I, um--well, I…” 

“What is it?” he asked, opening the door a bit wider. I swallowed harshly, suddenly wishing that I had prepared a speech before I just showed up at his door. I opened my mouth, but soon realized that no words planned on leaving it. “Lou?” 

“Right.” I nodded, taking in a deep breath before trying to continue. “I, um, well I guess I just wanted to say… I mean, I _know_ I wanted to say… I mean, I realized that I--I didn’t just realize, I’ve known all along, but I--” 

“Louis.” Harry chuckled, though a confused expression was still across his face. “What is it?” 

“I--ah, fuck it,” I said. “I love you.” Silence quickly fell over us, and I watched as his eyes widened and his jaw dropped again. Even from where I was standing I could see his chest rise and fall rapidly; which seemed to match the pounding of my heart perfectly. “I--I can’t pretend that I don’t love you, Harry, but I need to know if… if you’re in this for the long run or if this will just be another stupid fling with you, because I’m--I’m all in this.” 

My words came out rushed, frantic even, and before he could say anything I continued. “I’m not here for you to try your sexuality out on. I’m not gonna be some experiment for you, okay? Because I’m--I’m too deep in this! I need to know that you’re in this just as deep; I can’t go down that same path again only for you to change your mind and say you like girls. I’m not asking you to marry me, but I need to know that you’re going to be one hundred percent committed to this like I am.” 

Silence. 

He stood in front of me with the exact same expression as before, though I think his eyes had manage to widen a bit further. All the color had drained from his face, and the only thing I could compare it to was complete _terror._ A minute passed, then another, and the silence between is started to become deafening. 

I gulped, realizing that he wasn’t going to say anything. “I…” I trailed off, my whole body starting to tremble with the fear that he may never say anything ever again . “Harry.” I took a shaky breath in. “Say something.” 

Silence. 

“I need you to say something,” I begged. He stood unmoving, and for a moment I considered the possibilities of him passing out on me. Time seemed to stand still, his wide eyes burning holes into me, our heavy breathing being the only sound around us. “You--you asked me for another chance,” I whispered, all sense of confidence fleeing my body. “You--you wanted this,” I continued, my tone so quietly I could barely hear myself. “Didn’t you?” 

I watched as he closed his mouth, his adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed roughly, and when he parted his lips again I thought he was going to say something, but I was left with silence. “Please say something,” I choked out, squeezing my eyes shut and dropping my chin to my chest. 

“I--I don’t know what to say.” 

I looked up, my heart rate picking up again; he hadn’t spoken in so long that his voice sounded foreign to me. I thought it over for a second, trying desperately to think of what to say. I knew what I wanted him to say; I thought I had made that pretty clear. “Do you love me?” I squeaked, internally cursing my voice for cracking. 

“I--” He cut himself off, taking a shaky breath in but keeping his mouth closed afterwards. 

My heart broke. 

“Oh,” I whispered, looking down at the ground. “Okay.” 

“Lou, I--” 

“No.” I shook my head. “It’s okay. You, um, you don’t have to say anything. It was stupid of me to come over here like this,” I said, a puff of air leaving my lungs, my eyes still cast down at the ground. “I’ll just go.” 

Silence fell over us again for a moment, as I stood unmoving, and when I finally looked back up again he had his eyes locked on the ground. The back of my throat itched and my eyes burned with the emotions I was trying so desperately to hold back. The realization that this was officially _it_ between us was quickly washing over me. 

I was a complete and utter fool. 

Without saying another word, I turned around and slowly made the three steps of shame back to my own flat. I unlocked the door and stepped inside, my eyes locking with Harry’s again from across the hall before I shut the door. 

Fuck. 

My whole body sank against the closed door as I covered my face with my hands. I squeezed my eyes shut, breathing in and out deeply, willing myself not to cry. What the fuck had just happened? It had all seemed like such a good idea when Niall told me to go get him; like it would actually just _work out._

I was once again reminded that life never works out like it does in the movies. 

This shit would never happen to Ryan Gosling. 

“Louis?” Niall called from the living room. I didn’t move. “Louis? Why are you back so quick? Come in here!” I forced myself to keep breathing, my hands trembling in front of my face, and it wasn’t until Niall called out for me again that my eyes snapped open. I swallowed the lump in the back of my throat before kicking off the door, my pace fast as I barreled down the hallway, completely ignoring Niall’s calls. 

I grabbed my trainers from the floor and hopped around on one foot as I slid them on. I could hear Niall trying to get up from his spot on the couch, but the blood rushing behind my ears was keeping my brain sidetracked. I grabbed the first jumper I saw and pulled it over my head just as Niall’s slow footsteps, following by the sound of his crutches, rounded my corner. 

“What the fuck happened?” he asked, out of breath from his journey down the hallway. 

“Nothing,” I replied, my tone flat, all emotion gone from my body. “Absolutely nothing happened.” 

Niall frowned. “Whadda you mean?” 

“I mean nothing fucking happened!” I snapped, throwing my arms out to the side. “He doesn’t love me. It’s--it’s whatever. Fuck it. Fuck it all!” I groaned, sliding past Niall and heading towards the door. 

“Where are you going?!” Niall called out to my back. 

“For a run,” I said, sniffling as I grabbed a pair of earbuds from the countertop and hastily plugged them into my phone. 

“But… you don’t… run,” Niall said, from his spot in the hallway. 

“I don’t know what else to do!” I yelled, turning around to face Niall. He held his hands up in defense, his crutches pinned under his armpits, and we held eye contact for a moment before I shook my head. I pushed the earbuds in my ear and hit play on my phone before quickly exiting the flat.

 

* * *

 

Five minutes into my run I realized that Niall was right: I was not a runner. 

Sure, I played footie back in the day, but running just to be running was not my style. 

Which is why I somehow ended up here, the same place I seemed to always end up when I was upset. (Which was _very_ often since Harry Styles came into my life.) 

The empty football pitch. 

I don’t know how long I had been sitting here by now, but the sun had gone down and the cold had set in. I sat in the middle of the pitch, my knees pulled up to my chest and music blasting in my ears. Goosebumps covered my legs where my shorts had stopped, but the cold didn’t bother me much anymore. 

Coldplay was doing nothing to help brighten my mood. I brought my hands up to my hair and ran my fingers through my fringe when I felt someone touch my shoulder. I startled and quickly jumped up. I spun around, pulling the headphones out of my ears, but was taken back when I saw Harry standing before me. 

I brought a hand to my racing heart, my breaths coming out in heavy pants. “You scared the fuck out of me.” 

“I’m sorry,” he said, chewing on his bottom lip. 

I took a deep breath in, letting my eyes close for a second before opening them, only to find Harry still standing there. I clearly wasn’t imagining this. I swallowed the lump in the back of my throat, shoving the earbuds into my pocket before crossing my arms over my chest. I stared down at my feet, feeling Harry’s gaze burning into me, but didn’t know what to say to him. 

“I have nothing left to say,” I mumbled honestly. 

Harry sighed. 

I looked up at him, my heart incapable of breaking anymore than it already has. “What do you want, Harry?” 

“I…” he paused, then took a deep breath before continuing. “I haven’t let myself feel… anything… for anyone in so long that I--” 

“Harry,” I cut him off. “I don’t want to hear it.” 

He frowned. 

“I know what you went through, okay?” I sighed, “I’m not… I’m not trying to be an asshole about your feelings, but, like--I just don’t want to hear it. I don’t want to hear your excuses for anything, okay? Just… just stop it.” I let a puff of air leave my lungs, shaking my head, knowing this conversation wasn’t going anywhere. I remembered everything that Gemma had told me, how he didn’t say I love you anymore, but that didn’t make it okay. 

Maybe I was being a bastard. 

But my heart couldn’t take anymore. 

“I get it,” I said, looking back up at him. “It just wasn’t meant to be.” I shrugged, swallowing roughly again before shaking my head. 

“Don’t say that.” 

“Fuck, Harry,” I groaned. “I don’t want to do this! I don’t want to talk about this! It’s _fine._ ” 

“It’s not fine.” 

“ _No_ , it’s not, but what the fuck else am I supposed to say?!” I yelled, throwing my arms out to the side again. I watched as he brought his fists up and tugged roughly on his curls. I sighed loudly, shaking my head again as I moved to brush past him. “I’m not doing this.” 

“Louis, wait!” Harry yelled. 

“Why the fuck should I?!” I yelled back, without turning around. 

“Because I--because I love you, you prick!” 

I stopped dead in my tracks, my eyes widening as I took in his words. I slowly turned around, my legs feeling like jelly as I made eye contact with him. His expression was pained, as if it physically hurt him to say those three words, and I watched as he tugged at his curls some more. 

“What?” 

He dropped his hands from his face and took a quick step towards me, his eyes locked on mine as he said, “I _said_ I _love_ you.” 

“Don’t.” I shook my head, holding up my palms towards him. 

He reached up and grabbed my wrists with both hands. “Listen to me,” he said, his eyes locked onto mine. “Are you listening?” I slowly nodded, looking down at where he was grabbing onto my wrists before looking back up to meet his eyes. His tone instantly softened as he began speaking. “I didn’t think I was ever going to be ready to be _anybody’s_ boyfriend again, Louis. Not after what happened. I didn’t want to love anybody, or be with anybody, or let anybody even care about me, but… but you changed that.” 

I swallowed roughly. 

“Losing you was the worst thing that’s happened to me since… since…” he sighed, looking down. He let go of my wrists, only to lace our fingers together and hold them tightly between us. “Losing you, it was like… it was like you were gone, too.” 

“Harry,” I whispered, causing him to look back up at me. 

“But you’re _not_ gone. You’re--you’re right here and I can’t lose you again.” 

“Don’t just… say you love me to get me to stay,” I whispered, my voice squeaking near the end. “I need you to mean it.” 

“Fuck, Louis,” he said, “I _do_ mean it. I wouldn’t say it otherwise!” 

“I know, but--”

“No!” he exclaimed, gripping my hands tighter, his eyes locked onto mine again. “You drive me fucking _crazy_ and I--I love that! I love that you don’t wear shoes and that you always wear trackies, and--and that you eat onions on everything! And that you’re a total dork who fumbles over his words and embarrassed himself in front of me, like, the first five times we saw each other.” 

My jaw dropped. 

He grinned. “I love that you tried to ride a bike for me.” 

“Harry,” I said, heat rushing to my cheeks as I looked down at the ground. 

He ducked his head down to catch my eyes again. “I love that you built me a desk.” 

I looked back up, the memory rushing back to me, something I hadn’t thought of in a long time. “I love your tattoos and your stomach and your stupid big butt,” he said, grinning wider now as my cheeks continued to heat. “I love that you’re shorter than me and that you’re so, like, dainty.” 

“Hey, fuck you,” I snarled. 

“But I love that about you! I… I love _you_ , Louis. I really… really do.” Silence washed over us. We were still standing a few inches apart, our hands held awkwardly between our bodies, the whole world around us seeming to fade out. “You asked me if I was in it for the long run,” he whispered, pulling me closer to him by our hands. I slowly nodded, chewing on the inside of my cheek as hard as I could. “I want to wake up to your stupid face every morning.” 

“Harry,” I choked out, blushing hard as I looked back down to the ground. 

“I want to go to sleep next to you every night. I want to make you watch every stupid movie that you’ve never seen before,” he continued, and even though I wasn’t looking at him I could hear the smile in his voice. “I want to make you dinner every night while you sit on the couch like the prince you are--and because your cooking is _shit._ ” I looked up to glare at him, but couldn’t keep the facade up very long when I saw the fond smile that was etched across his features. “I want to be everything for you, Louis. Because… you’re everything to me.” 

We held our eye contact for a minute before a loud laughter roared through my body. His jaw dropped, taking a step back from me with an amused expression across his face. “You’re laughing at me!” 

“Because you’re everything to me,” I mocked, laughing loudly at his cheesy line. 

He gaped even further at me. “You’re fucking laughing at me!” 

“Oh, come on, Styles!” I said, biting my bottom lip as I stepped closer to him, not wanting any distance between us. “What book did you get that line out of, hmm?” 

“That was quality stuff!” he protested. “I worked very hard on that speech!” 

“I’m sure you did,” I laughed, rolling my eyes at him. 

Silence washed over us again, and he slowly reached out and grabbed onto my waist, pulling me closer to him. My breath caught in my throat as our bodies pressed together, our lips close enough that I could feel his breath fanning out over me. “I’m in it for the long run,” he whispered, bringing one of his hands up to brush the fringe out of my eyes. 

“Mmm,” I hummed. 

“Are you?” 

“Yes,” I whispered, my heart beating rapidly in my chest. 

“You believe me that I love you?” 

“Yes.” The smile on my face practically reached my eyes. 

“Good,” he whispered, wrapping his arms around my back. “Now kiss me, you fool.”

  
**THE END.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiiiiiiiii guys. 
> 
> Before I say anything else, I want to honestly thank you all from the bottom of my heart for sticking with me throughout the life of this story. I started this story on a whim one day and I never thought it would get as popular as it did. Your support means the world to me, and I’m so very glad that you enjoyed this story. 
> 
> Should we address the elephant in the room? 
> 
> I know it has been 4 months since I updated. I’m very sorry. Please know that I never did this intentionally to hurt you guys, piss you off, or as a “huge fuck you” (As someone pointed out.) Please just know that I thought about this story every day and was constantly reminded of the fact that I hadn’t updated. Unfortunately, life gets in the way sometimes. I’m a grown woman, with a full time job and responsibilities. I’m very sorry if you can’t understand that. 
> 
> That being out of the way, this story really does mean a lot to me and I’m so glad to have finally wrapped it all up. Many of you have been here from the very start and I’ll _never_ get over that. 
> 
> I want to dedicate this story to my Ducky. My Niall. My soulmate. The other half of DTS. The 22 on my wrist. 
> 
> I also want to thank ALL of you for reading, especially after I disappeared for 4 months, and I want to specifically thank THESE people: (Even the Haterzz.) **Toni, decadent, lollycoops, BeautifulPeopleLarry, louiscornhusk, micheleyo, LarryLouHarry, Cupcakesandsass, 1DFan, 1dreamlove, iraecandy, nemo5678, emilina, pumpkindiddle, LO_LA, ILoveLou, fanfics_world, greata, mama, yennseyayala, sunday_love1234, Dari, emily, marie, barb, confused, mine_was_wwa_bos, LouisLoves and Entice!**
> 
> I’m trying to make light of it, guys. Please don’t take my sassy-ness as a “huge fuck you”, because I honestly really do appreciate you all for sticking around. This story would have been nothing without your continued support over the last year. You are all VERY SPECIAL TO ME!!!!! 
> 
> That’s all I’ve got. 
> 
> Byyyyyyyeeeee!


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